#not one straight person in that whole workplace

[theangelofbrahma]

[fakeoutbf]

five stages of grief but it’s five stages of social anxiety

[antivivziepopparade]

All of the proof that we have that Vivziepop is abusive. (So far....)

While you support this post please go ahead and support my channel to see more about Vivziepop's abusive behavior. Thanks!

1. She rushes her employees.

Season 1 was made in 2020. While Season 2 was made in 2021 while being released with MULTIPLE EPISODES only ONE year later.

That's-

INSANE!

-and im about to tell you why:

The average cartoon needs almost ONE WHOLE YEAR to produce one episode. And this is what we see in MAINSTREAM shows.

Meanwhile, Helluva Boss took only one year (and a half) to make MULTIPLE ENTIRE EPISODES that last over 20 minutes. The longest waiting time for an episode being 8 months. Not even a year, and we get multiple episodes off the drawing board.

You can even see here that it's taken only three years to make 16 episodes. When this is an indie studio, so this should have taken so much longer to make. Yet for some reason, it took only a few years for us to get full seasons. In 2021, we got over 4 episodes alone. Have you ever wondered why these episodes come out so fast while other shows take a lot longer to get new seasons? That's an easy question to ask... Spindlehorse...

Is being ABUSED.

And I have the proof to show.

2. The pay controversy.

Spindlehorse's payment has been under controversy for providing the lowest pay possible to those that work at the studio.

One piece of evidence was given by Adam himself (albeit unintentionally) by saying this:

This kind of pay is highly unstable! And before you say "But he didn't force them to be there-"

LOOK.

The employees themselves admitted that they had no choice. People had no choice and Vivienne Medrano took advantage of that for her own selfish desires. This is disgusting treatment of a studio as small as Spindlehorse. Or any studio for that matter.

Hell! chaifootsteps said once that once Zeurel released that he was paying his animators too low, he deleted one of the tweets showing the low pay and decided to do something to give his employees better wages. Meanwhile, Chimera Bunny pays even less than Viv does and just because paying your workers low is normal in the animation industry- plot twist: Doesn't make it ok!

People have suffered so much in this industry, it's why "New Deal for Animation" exists. The only reason you haven't seen many Vivziepop workers having protests and speaking out is because Vivziepop says things like this behind people's backs if they "dare" do anything she doesn't like:

So that explains as to why so many people remain as "anon" or say nothing at all because they got cold feet. Vivienne's terrible!

Especially since even her top employees have admitted to not being paid enough despite Adam's "I pay them to stay if they make us the most mon-ey!" claims from the article:

Also this:

This is how she speaks about her own employees:

"YOU DONT LIKE HOW I TREAT YOU?! FUCK OFF!"

Straight up abuse.

Also, wasn't Walt Disney known for abusing his employees?

To the point where people had an entire protest in 1914 about it?

Wow... such a healthy workplace treatment comparison. Doesn't make Vivziepop look more like a jerk.... at all! /s

3. She bullies kids/laughed at a sa victim that was sa'ed by her friends. As one kid was bullied into a panic attack (I know them personally) back in about 2020 and Viv decided to vague post about them behind their back even after they apologized.

For someone who's so focused on "forgiving despite cancel culture" she sure likes to blame and harass people for disliking even ONE thing about her show or herself. One thing- and you're harassed over making a meme about a cartoon with fictional characters (What Froot Did that set Vivziepop and Gumball off.)

Secondly, one of her friends sexually harassed a minor.

And instead of acknowledging the sa, Vivziepop wrote this:

She ended up calling it a "joke" and made fun of the victim involved.

This is outright abusive behavior that should not be tolerated.

Children don't deserve to be traumatized this way. Especially over something as simple as making memes about a cartoon (negative or not) or simply telling someone to stop fetishizing abuse.

More on this in this video made by Gummypop:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND-

That's all that I have for now!

Will likely be updating this post in the future. Goodbye!

EDIT:

More evidence of Vivziepop using abusive language and slander against her employees behind their back. Claims of them being a "stalker" (like she did to Kedi and also its clear that she told her employees to say that Kaz was a "stalker" otherwise how else would they be saying these things after she fired them.) along with using abusive language such as "CUNT!" to prefer to Kaz this way in a professional setting I cannot. 💀

More evidence of Vivziepop harassing a kid:

ANOTHER edit:

More evidence, she's burning them the HELL out!

Yet ANOTHER edit:

More evidence of Spindlehorse being abusive:

EDIT:

Even MORE evidence:

The fact that the story AND the storyboards AND the animating for season one's episodes were all done in one year is just so crazy to me like... WHAT?! Either way, this post will continue to extend the more that I find evidence. So remember to look forward to that one!

EDIT:

Sadly no, as animation abuse is so common that the police dont even see it as an issue. The last time I tried to call the police on her they needed a location. The problem? There is no location of Spindlehorse since it's a "private" studio. So because of that viv gets away with abuse despite the obvious implications of her behavior and how many people came out with allegations towards her.

[outerspacebisexual]

Memories of Days Gone By - Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer has never understood having a cluttered desk at work. Then you start at the BAU, and he's forced to share a desk with the least desk-tidy person in the whole FBI. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Word count: 3.1k Warnings: none, except talk of reader getting shot a/n: woah, outerspacebisexual actually writing instead of just reblogging post about writing? crazy Masterlist

Spencer always thought that having personal mementos in the workplace was weird.

Maybe it came from his mother, whose desk was always so cluttered she could barely place anything down without something else falling off. He could—as with everything else—vividly remember sitting in her office chair, spinning in around and around in circles, watching his framed toothy six-year-old-self flying past him again and again and again.

She never swapped out that photo, even when he got older and his round, chubby face became angular with his teen years. Not when he graduated high school, or college, or college again. In fact, he knew for certain that photo still sat on his mother’s bedside table. So you’re always here with me, she’d said on one of her good days. And even though most of the time she had no idea who the tiny child with thick frames was, she still traced a finger down the side of the glass before bed.

When Spencer first joined the BAU, he’d made a point to ensure his desk was cleared every hour. Empty coffee cups, old files, shredding, sticky notes; after one hour, it all went. That way he could ensure that everything got done.

And that same habit continued for years, until you showed up.

Hi, you’d said on your first day, sticking out your hand and smiling wide. Looks like we’re desk buddies.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The desk had belonged to Emily before you got there, and the idea of looking up and seeing you was just another reminder that he’d lost her.

He was nice to you, of course. You hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d simply taken a job opening from the ballistics unit to the BAU. It wasn’t your fault that his dead friend’s desk was now yours.

At first, he noticed how you had a habit of leaving empty coffee cups on your desk, choosing to get another one rather than reuse the one already on your desk. It wasn’t a problem. There were plenty of mugs in the kitchen. But when your chair hit your desk, they chimed together, and the noise set him on edge.

He left it alone for the first month.

But then came the files.

Files piled up on your desk---not in neat piles marked ‘Complete’ and ‘Incomplete’ like his—just spread out across the surface in every direction and orientation. And as the week went on, more and more were added until there was no discernible way to tell which had been done and which hadn’t. This led to you having to leaf through folder after folder until you found the one you were looking every day.

Spencer had been tempted to say something one week when he’d watched you out of the corner of his eye search for a file for fifteen minutes. You’d found it right as he opened his mouth, spinning in your chair and heading straight for Garcia’s office. Spencer had sat and stared at the mountain of manila folders then entire time you were gone, thinking to himself, How could you put up with this?

How could you deal with having to fight with your desk at every second of the day just to find something? The idea of it made him want to throw up. Not that his apartment was any better, he knew that. But there was a difference between work and home. Home was allowed to be messy and cluttered, full of the rest of your life outside of work. Work was work. It depended on being able to obtain information quickly and efficiently—not after ten minutes of rooting around.

Hey, Reid? you’d asked one afternoon. Have you seen that Milwaukee case file?

Which one?

The consult one? With the three missing girls?

He tried his best not to roll his eyes. I think you put it down on the edge of your desk.

You spun and rifled through the stack, grinning when you held it up. You’re a genius, you know that?

Pursing his lips, he said, Believe it or not, I do.

Spencer might’ve been bad at reading social clues, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you were just trying to be nice and start a conversation, but he reached over and lifted the phone to his ear, pretending not to notice the way your face fell. You quietly turned back to your computer and opened the file.

A week later, you tried again. Reid, do you want coffee?

No, he answered quickly, despite blinking back the sting of a 3:00am emergency case. ‘Urgent’ was all the text from Hotch had said, and now he was sitting behind his desk once again, for the fifty-second hour this week. Hotch was never wrong. There had never been a case that Hotch had chosen where the team hadn’t been needed, not in all the years Spencer had worked for the BAU. But he couldn’t deny that there were times that he wished he wasn’t at work.

You sure? I know we got more sugar, if that’s what you’re worried about.

I’m fine, he snapped, harsher than he’d intended. Thankfully, you left it alone.

+

Then, you were all in Atlanta, consulting on a case of three male bodies and another man missing. By the morning, his head had cleared, and he noticed the space you’d put between the two of you when you both arrived at the ME’s office.

Doctor Glenn, thanks for meeting with us, you started.

Doctor Glenn had smile brightly at you, standing from behind his desk to shake your hand. Spencer waved. Of course. And please, Scott is fine.

You sent him a soft smile. Where are we with the latest autopsy?

Well, from what I can tell, the murder weapon was some sort of short-bladed knife. What kind, I can’t say for certain. The advanced decomposition on all three makes it tricky.

Something like a kitchen knife? Or pocketknife?

Scott nodded. It’s possible. Like I said, I can’t be sure at this stage.

Can I see the photos? Spencer asked.

Absolutely, Scott replied. I was going to give you the file anyway. He opened the closest folder to him, but frowned. Oh, this isn’t right. Sorry, it’s here somewhere.

Noting his reddening cheeks the longer he searched, you said, Your desk looks a lot like mine.

If Scott noticed you attempt to put him at ease, he didn’t make it known. Brows pinched tightly together, he queried, The BAU doesn’t have strict guidelines on that kind of thing?

You shrugged. Maybe, it does. Though, I’m sure I’d have been written up by now if it did. You leaned forward in your chair to glance at the photo frames on the side. Spencer could see them clearly from where he sat. Two dozen frames littered the side of his desk, all displaying four boys---from baby photos to teenagers. Are they your boys?

Scott, visibly grateful to have a distraction while he continued rustling through drawers, didn’t look up. Yes, the four of them. James, Patrick, John, and Liam.

Spencer watched in silence the conversation the two of you had.

How old?

James is almost 21, Patrick, 19, and John and Liam are both 16.

Twins?

Indeed.

Must have been a handful when they were younger, I’m sure.

He smiled gently. You don’t know the half of it. John’s decided to head to college in California and Liam’s heading to New York.

It must be nice to have them close, at least for the time being, you replied.

It is. I don’t quite know what I’ll do once they’re gone, if I’m honest. And I worry. Like every parent does, I suppose.

Well, if they’re half as kind as all these photos make them out to be, then I’m sure they’ll be just fine.

That’s kind of you to say. I’m not blind, either. I know it’s a lot.

You laughed. It’s not, I promise. It’s nice to have something to remind you of the good. Especially with jobs like yours and mine. Reminds you of what you’re working for. Who you’re working for. There’s so much darkness out there, if we don’t remind ourselves, we can get lost in it.

Scott produced a file from the bottom drawer, and Spencer just stared at you, even as you took the file and flipped through it.

+

A month later, Spencer found himself hunched over his desk, computer brightness on low as he tried his best to block out the noise emanating from every corner of the bull pen. With the migraine he was sporting, he was sure he could hear all the way to reception, which did nothing to help his pounding head. He clicked random buttons on his computer as his eyes watched each minute tick by.

Four hours. That was all he had left. Then he could leave and collapse down onto his couch and sleep for two days until it was gone. With each passing minute, his brain fog got worse, until he was reading the same sentence for the fifth time in a row without comprehending what it was saying. Who even sends an email at 1:04pm on a Friday?

Aaron Hotchner, according to the contact name at the top. He needed to reply. Hotch would be expecting an answer.

Spencer hadn’t even realised you’d been speaking until you waved a hand in the air over the partition between your desks.

What? he asked, when you just stared blankly at him.

I asked if you were OK?

He sat up straighter, doing his best to ignore the pain that stabbed through him. I’m fine.

You cocked an eyebrow. Are you sure? You don’t look great.

I said I’m fine.

You were silent for a long moment, and you refused to break eye contact with him. That was until you leaned over and reefed open a drawer.

What are you doing?

You continued to dig through it. I have some pain meds in here. Nothing fancy, but you look like you could use some ibuprofen.

I don’t need it.

And I don’t need to sit here and watch you suffer for the rest of the day, Reid. Seriously. It’s painfully obvious.

Spencer didn’t have it in him to reply. Any other day, and he might’ve snapped at you. But today, he would take your kindness. As he came around to your side, he peeked inside your drawer, noting it was the same as the top of your desk. Cluttered and messy.

He stared at the mountain of files, eyes roaming over your desk. Your nameplate. Your empty coffee cups. Your photos. He paused as he took them in—for the first time since you’d been here.

Many different photos were tacked onto the partition. Most were of a cat and a dog and a few people who he assumed were family and friends from outside of work.

Only one was framed—a photo of the team. He could remember the day. You’d only been at the BAU for a month and upon returning from a hard case, Garcia had surprised you with a cake and balloons in the conference room. You’d cried, he remembered. Which he’d thought was weird, but hadn’t taken much note of at the time. Anderson had snapped a photo at Garcia’s insistence.

Suddenly, a sleeve of ibuprofen was thrust into his chest. Here.

Thank you, he mumbled.

You don’t need to thank me, Reid. Just take it, and maybe seen Hotch about leaving early. That can be your thanks. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, which he returned before heading to the breakroom.

+

Six months after you started at the BAU, you got shot.

Not life-threatening, but a bullet to the shoulder meant you were laid up on leave for two weeks.

The bullpen had never been so quiet, Spencer thought. Though maybe it was his guilt that made him think that. It had racked him every day of the two weeks since they’d gotten back from Wichita. The bullet had been meant for him, and if he’d actually been paying attention to his surroundings, then he wouldn’t have missed the UnSub lining up the shot, and you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way, taking the hit for him.

Your screams still echoed in his mind. The first, his name: Spencer! Get down! And the second, your yelp of pain. Spencer had fired off two shots in quick succession, taking out the UnSub with barely more than a thought before he was turning to you lying flat on your back and gripping your shoulder.

He’d accompanied you to the hospital, where they said long-term damage was unlikely, but you would have a long road to recovery until you had full use of your arm again.

Hotch had immediately put you on leave, threatening that he’d make you take even longer if he saw you in the office at all before the two weeks was up. You had kept your word to him that you’d take the full two weeks.

Spencer hadn’t been sure what to do about your desk for the first few days. Hotch had instructed him to take over your files, which was easier said than done.

Heaving your last folder into his ‘Complete’ tray, he breathed a sigh of relief. Glancing at the clock, he realised he’d been zoned out writing reports for four hours. The rest of the team had all gone—aside from Hotch, but when wasn’t he in his office.

Starting over the partition, Spencer eyed the mess that still cluttered your desk. He hadn’t wanted to touch anything except the files, which he’d gingerly sorted into what was done and what wasn’t, careful not to disturb anything else on the desk.

Now, staring at all you’d left behind when they’d suddenly been forced to jet off, he wondered if tidying it was the least he could do. Maybe you would thank him for it. Or maybe you’d tear his head off for touching your stuff.

He decided to take that risk.

Collecting the loose papers and random Post-its, he placed them neatly into piles to the right of your computer. Most where mindless reminders for yourself—Get the dry cleaning! and Pay the water bill by tonight!

Spencer wasn’t always grateful for his eidetic memory, but not having to remember small day-to-day tasks was a huge bonus for him. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to cope without it.

He straightened the tacked photographs and wiped down the team photo. He made sure your computer was properly plugged in. He ensured your tablet was fully charged for your return. He was almost satisfied, when he noticed one green Post-it note had fallen behind your monitor screen. Weaving his hands between the cords, he pulled it out.

Thanks for the ibuprofen. I really appreciate it.

Below his barely legible script, sat a small face he’d doodled. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought anything of it since he stuck it to your monitor.

But you still had it, even two months later.

He stuck it back where he’d put it the first time.

+

You’re back, Spencer said as he entered the bullpen the next morning.

I am, you replied, grinning wide. Do I have you to thank for this?

Placing his bag down on his seat, he said, I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Oh, come on. There’s only one other office neat freak in this whole place, and I know for a fact it wasn’t Hotch. When he said nothing, you rolled your eyes. Fine. Guess I’ll have to pass my thanks on to the boss man.

Spencer smiled as he unloaded his bag.

Cat got your tongue or something, Reid? He kept his lips sealed perfectly shut. Ok, then. Keep your secrets. I don’t need to know them. I don’t want to know them anyway.

I’m getting a coffee, he said suddenly, cutting off your teasing drawl. Do you want one?

You blinked. What?

I said, I’m getting a coffee. Would you also like one?

Uh, yeah. That would be great, you managed after a moment. Thanks.

He nodded, and he pretended he didn’t feel your eyes watching him the whole time as he made his way to the break room.

+

“Reid?” Morgan called, and Spencer looked up from the file he was currently nose-deep in. “Are you coming?”

“What’s happening?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

Morgan groaned. “Don’t tell me you forgot about dinner at Rossi’s tonight.”

“Oh, that’s tonight?”

“Yes, pretty boy. How could you forget?”

“I didn’t forget,” he mumbled, gathering his belongings as Morgan made his way over to him.

“From the looks of it, you absolutely did.”

“I didn’t. I just…have a lot on my mind.”

Morgan stopped at the side of Spencer’s desk, his signature smirk adorning his face. Spencer didn’t even look at him as he hastily jammed files into his bag.

“This is new,” Morgan commented, and he glanced over to see him staring at a framed photo he’d picked up.

When he flipped it around, Spencer could see it. The photo of him in his apartment, sitting on the couch, grinning ear to ear, and you sat right beside him, holding your left hand up to display the shiny ring adorning your finger. You’re looking directly at the camera. Spencer is only looking at you.

Spencer took the photo from him. “I liked it, so I got it printed.”

He didn’t have to tell him that he got every photo printed now. He’d never been a fan of technology, and the idea that all his best memories were being held ransom on a device that could be destroyed any minute made his head spin. So, he got every photo printed. Most were safely tucked away in albums on his bookshelf at his apartment.

But this one was special.

Morgan’s voice was gentle as he said, “It’s nice.”

Spencer smiled and brushed a finger over the glass. “Reminds me of the good,” he said.

Then he placed it back down on his desk, the frame right at home amongst all the others.

[sunsguilt]

SMASH OR PASS WITHOUT THE SMASH !┊ft: all nrc characters!

warnings: none! contains: gn reader

notes: this is essentially a dateability ranking in terms of pure survival and living your best life. i love all the characters dearly, and this is just for fun!

HEARTSLABYUL

riddle rosehearts: don’t get me started on him. hypothetically, let’s say he has a single romantical bone in his body. he would probably (definitely) want to date someone his mother would approve of, so someone who’s super studious and thinking about becoming a lawyer type of thing. even then, his mother would be the overbearing MIL stereotype, and riddle would just bend to her every whim, so it wouldn’t work. would probably divorce you if his mom said to. 

overall rating: 2/10, could be a nice cushy life if he took his penchant for memorizing rules into a lawyer profession and became a rich husband, but still the MIL…. you would end up on r/relationshipadvice within weeks, i’m afraid. 

ace trappola: he’s like a frat boy to me, honestly. I think you could be friends with him within reason, but if you actually date him… he’s the kind of guy who would pursue you and then get bored once u start dating. whoops, he had a consensual workplace relationship. he canonically ghosted his ex, guys. 

overall rating: 3/10, you would be dating a frat boy. you don’t want that for yourself, trust me, speaking from second-hand experience here. 

deuce spade: deuce is actually normal. like he’s no rich boy, but his family is respectful and his mother would adore you if he brought you home. he’s a little slow, but he’s got the spirit, y’know? 

overall rating: 6/10, very nice in-laws, very cool husband. you may end up being the primary breadwinner. 

cater diamond: with cater, it’s probably a bromance that turns into a real romance. mostly because he didn’t want to confess and ruin the whole thing you had going on together. likely a guy who needs a lot of validation from his partner. like he’ll say he hates pickles if you don’t like pickles. will not let a pickle pass his lips. will try his very hardest to convince you to do silly couple challenges.

overall rating: 8/10, he’s sooooo cute but he’s got unresolved mental instability like you wouldn’t believe. personally, i love that in a man. call me fix-it felix.

trey clover: trey is. trey. average guy whose family runs a bakery. he’s cute though!

overall rating: 5/10, he’s probably a freak in terms of intimate relations! teehee! no further comment.

SAVANACLAW

leona kingscholar: leona is a nice guy, respectful etc. but after a while, he’s not putting the same energy into the relationship as you are. the added layer of dating a literal prince…. no matter how disregarded he is by his family, he is second in line for the throne. the pressure from that sounds crazy, i won’t lie. you might be able to ignore the pressure of him bringing you home to straight up royalty ! overall rating: 5/10, he’s so dreamy and gorjus but he wears uncle sandals. jack howl: oh he’s so bf material, like you don’t understand. him being really firm on the fact that beastmen choose a life partner? wanting to fall in love and be committed to someone until his dying day? this is Romance. he's probs a good guy to bring to the gym for support if you’re just starting to work out regularly! might accidentally push you past your limits bc he’s thinking beastmen standards and not human. overall rating: 7/10, he’s so cute and i love him, but he’s a gym bro and does daily early morning jogs and such. cannot accept it. ruggie bucchi: he’s actually another really normal guy to date! he’s shown to do anything to provide for his loved ones (bringing food home from school to provide for his friends and family). very much an acts of service guy! 

overall rating: 4/10, the chances are high that he’ll do that thing that broke dudes do when they get all touchy and hug their partner when the partner pulls out their card to pay for something. 

OCTAVINELLE

azul ashengrotto: he would be nice to you ONLY if he had something to gain. would actually play the long game in order to sweet-talk you into signing some contract that totally screws you over forever. he is a capitalist at heart, i fear. he’s gonna get you in some get-rich-quick scheme. also, he can’t kiss and it would be weird and a lot more drool than necessary.  overall rating: 6/10, i love octopus.

jade leech: oh god. he’s like visually appealing but the longer he's talking, the worse it gets. his hobby would literally be getting your heart rate up. you’d be lucky if you don’t get high blood pressure from his desire to see your face twist in an ugly expression. he has a penchant for learning, so he’ll want to research the topic of his interest to the fullest to get the desired results.  overall rating: 3/10, the moment he’s tired of you, he’ll never speak to you again outside of a professional setting. floyd leech: he wants to have fun every day he can. which is fine, nothing wrong with that. the problem lies when he wants to rope you into it. and his idea of fun is….. questionable. he would call you up in the middle of the night and ask if you wanna go for a joyride that takes you over state lines. and you would only get like three minutes notice. he would also invite himself into your dorm and sleep in your bed. no, he’s not making the bed either, the guy canonically has to be forced into ironing his own shirt.  overall rating: 3/10, he looks like he bites unironically. would you get rabies if a humanized eel bit you?

SCARABIA

kalim al-asim: oh he’s so sweet, but the only problem is literally the fact that he’s rich. he frequently talks about multiple attempts on his life in his youth up until the present day. if people outside of your circle found out you were with him, word would surely spread to unwanted ears, and your life would be at risk because of that immediate association.  overall rating: 6/10, a total sweetheart, but i don’t think i’d be able to eat breakfast with him without wondering if something’s in our food. jamil viper: he has too many underlying issues that include but are not limited to: an inferiority complex that exists due to his forced proximity to kalim. as much as i’d love to say i could fix him, jamil almost killed kalim. Plus, jamil is literally kalim’s servant. association with kalim = will probably die. overall rating: 5/10, he’s got issues, but he’s so cute and probably just needs that reassurance or whatever. my silly guy!

POMEFIORE

vil schoenheit: vil is like my fav so i’d love to say that because he’s so nice and rich and pretty that he would be a perfect ten. WRONG. he’s famous. bad! what if he has crazy stans who go after you bc you’re dating him? for your own safety, you would never be able to go public with your relationship, that is if the tabloids don't get to you.  overall rating: 7/10, you’ll have to listen to him go on tangents about neige. 

rook hunt: if you’re thinking “yeah no he’s probably a safe bet, he’s rich and i could be his trophy wife/husband”, you like french people and you’re lying to yourself !!!!! ive never met a normal rich person in my life, and rook is no exception. he would know your shoe size before you even know his last name. 

overall rating: 0/10, he’s weird AND french.

epel felmier: he lives in a small town where everyone tends to know each other and their business. there’s no hiding your relationship from them. downside is, he would have a crazy inferior complex if you were taller than him. He needs to be a Man’s man, yknow??? overall rating: 6/10, he’s a good cook, an incredible one, even. if you can’t cook and you can deal with a man who desperately wants to show you how cool he is, then this is the one for you. 

IGNIHYDE

idia shroud: he wouldn’t date, like he’s a NEET guys, i don’t see it at all. He would marry someone if it was for tax reasons, or just to tell people he isn’t bitchless. you'd just go to a courthouse real quick and pop by an ihop after.  

overall rating: 6/10, he would be an incredible overwatch carry. would bully you for sucking super hard in any type of pvp game. 

ortho shroud: he’s like a child, so he is not included! 

overall rating: 0/10, in terms of dateability, he’s silly tho

DIASOMNIA

malleus draconia: you would be perfectly safe with him. yeah, he’s not fully clear on the norms of human society, but he treats you well! problem is, he'd be a little too obssessed and its going to very quickly turn into "he's going to keep u in this tower bc hes scared abt u dying"

overall rating: 7/10, wouldn’t you love a loser man who is obsessed with gargoyles?!  silver: objectively, the world’s most perfect man. he’s super cute and can cook! everything you would want in a man. he's also got his wacky little sitcom type family like step brothers who are Not human and a dad who is Not human but like they care for him he cares for them! 

overall rating: 9/10, no real drama and they'd probably be elated if he brought someone home.  sebek zigvolt: he would choose malleus over you every time, i’m so sorry. like “sorry babe malleus needs help shining his sword or whatever, you can start the movie without me.” realistically the only time sebek could be in a relationship is if he finds someone whos as obsessed with malleus as he is so they can be hyperfixated on him together or something. like how kpop stans marry each other, but with malleus the dragon prince. 

overall rating: 2/10, he would use you has a human dishrag to clean shoes for malleus.  lilia vanrouge: everyone loves a fictional old man, but this particular old man comes with trauma and emotional baggage spanning centuries. You can only fix-it felix your way out of so many things. he’s cute, though. 

overall rating: 4/10, canonically picks his nose, i fear.

— ☆

[seeingivy]

fine line

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content warning: mentions of SA, addiction, bad workplace environments, shitty adults - protect your peace my babies

an: one I saved sparks for the next chapter so I don't like give someone a heart attack. and brace yourself pookies. this ended up at 16k. also, lmk if the format is confusing. but any memory that's embedded between dialogue is basically being shown in the video - it just makes more sense for me to write it as a visual

songs mentioned: ever since new york by harry styles, clean by taylor swift, all of the girls you loved before by taylor swift, and fine line by harry styles

previous part linked here

--

Tell me something, tell me something You don't know nothing, just pretend you do I need something, so tell me something new Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote For this curse Oh, what's it waiting for? Must this hurt you just before you go?

Eren lets the video play for a whole minute before he abruptly reaches for the remote from your hand and stops the film from playing. The song is burning in his ears - the clip of him blowing out the candles at his tenth birthday party searing his eyes - and the increasing, immense pressure that’s been building, ever since you came back to set, comes to a head in that second. 

So much so, that he has to stop the video. Like fully, take the remote from your hands and pause the video. And when he realizes what he’s done, looking over to his side and finding your wide eyes staring at him, and he swallows the lump of shame that’s in his throat and makes his best attempts to back track. 

He’s already messing this up. Royally. 

“Right. I’m sorry, Y/N. Here.” he murmurs, placing the remote back in the space between the two of you, as he nervously interlocks his own fingers within each other. 

Eren’s mind is in a hundred places right now. Granted, he’s always been one to be stuck where he shouldn’t be, but the regret is scorching deep through him now. 

Maybe he should just tell you straight out. Or take you to Seattle now so that you could all talk about it in person. Or he could have asked Connie to stay, just so that he had some type of moral support instead of your big doe eyes waiting for answers, but-

“Are you okay, Eren?” you ask. 

Eren looks over, mustering his best peachy smile, as he shakes his head. 

“No. I’m fine! I just…had a muscle spasm…. You can play it, it’s just-” 

You squint your eyes in response to his shitty defense, which Eren was expecting, because you were always acutely aware of how Eren was feeling. He was almost convinced that you could read his mind at times, that maybe some part of how he grew up left that part of him underdeveloped, that made him so soulless and unaware when it came to other people. 

Or that really, some part of you still understood him in the way you always seemed to be able to. In a way that no one else really had. Because few could bear close to you - Lana and Connie, even Sukuna to some extent - but there was just something about you specifically that saw him exactly how he was. 

That you always knew his intentions, that he almost never had to say them to you. He never had to explain that big mess that was going on in his head because you were always filling the gap and settling it down before he could even get it out. Like there was some secret language being spoken between the two of you every time you made eye contact. 

He’d figure that this part of the two of you - he had all but demolished it the second he opened his mouth back in Seattle. But it remains whole and intact and is extremely bad for that flaring hopeful feeling that he gets when he’s around you again. 

That the two of you could return back to what you were before, in some shape or form. 

Eren sighs. 

“I’m sorry. I just…got overwhelmed for a second. You can play the video. I-I promise I won’t pause it this time.” 

Your eyes soften - and Eren’s heart twinges - as he musters a smile for you. 

“Are you okay to be watching this with me? I can always watch it alone, Eren.” 

“Yeah, I-” 

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable…granted, I’m not sure exactly what it is that I’m watching, but if this…makes you anxious than I don’t want to force you to stomach it just for me.” 

Eren’s heart twinges. That you’re still the same as he left you, so loving that it’s flowing out of you. 

“It’s not just for you. Not that I’d be opposed to doing it but-” 

Eren swallows hard. 

“I should be here, Y/N.” he murmurs. 

“Okay. Well-” 

“And you’re watching a movie. A documentary feels like…the wrong word for it? But I guess that’s what it is?” Eren murmurs. 

“A documentary?” 

Eren swallows hard. 

“Do you remember that interview you did? When you became a triple threat?” Eren asks. 

You nod. 

“This is like if I did the interview. Like songs, album, the whole thing. And if other people were involved. And-” 

“Album? You made an album, Eren?” you ask, suddenly excited at the prospect of it. 

Eren was never one to push too hard into music, since he felt that his talents clearly resided in acting. The few times that he had written something was because certain things, mainly you, had left him so inspired and your little rambligns and notes had rubbed off on him. 

And when he missed you terribly, it seemed that the only thing that seemed to remedy it in some sense was writing songs about it. Granted, Lana almost kicked him out of her house for the sad piano he always seemed to be playing, which she claims wasn’t a good influence, but it made a good backtrack for the movie. 

“Yeah, well. You’re quite the inspiration.” Eren respond. 

You roll your eyes, lightly reaching over to shove his shoulder. Except he grabs your hand right before you can, his eyes fixed on his hand all but engulfing yours. 

“I’m being serious. You-you’re the only reason that I wanted to do this. That I was able to.” Eren whispers. 

You tilt your head to the side. 

“You’ve always been like this. So…adamant on the side of talking about things. About not holding it in. I remember when you did the whole “The Man” thing with Historia you literally had me scared shitless. That people were going to put your head on a stick and start coming for you.” 

“I remember. But they didn’t and-” 

“And then you did the same thing with Lana. About Ricky - and you don’t even know the half of it when it comes to that guy. You’ve proven it to me time and time again. That maybe���talking things out is the best way to do it. And granted, I’ve taken so long to get to that point but I-” 

“It’s okay. I just-” 

“It’s not okay. I want you to know that I don’t think what I did was right in any way. I literally made the wrong decision at every turn, and hurt you because of it, and I’m so sorry that I did because you have to know that you mean-” 

Eren freezes, as you wrestle your hand out of his, and place both of your hands firmly on his shoulders. 

“Eren. Just…stop panic explaining. Let me listen first.” you murmur. 

“I know. Sorry, you’re right, I just-” 

“Don’t apologize. I’m sure this is nerve wracking in ways that I can’t understand.” you respond. 

“You’ve always understood me.” Eren murmurs, immediately regretting it the second it leaves his mouth. 

Eren watches as you smile at him, soft and all the way up to your eyes, as you let go and reach for the remote. You give him a nod as you unpause the video again to a clip of Eren. 

At his tenth birthday, blowing out the candles, while he sings in the background. 

Oh, tell me something I don't already know Oh, tell me something I don't already know Oh, tell me something I don't already know Oh, tell me something I don't already know

--

The video starts the last place you expect it. With Zeke sitting in front of the camera, hand knotted together in the same way you’ve seen Eren’s a hundred times, as he retells the story of the day his grandmother passed away when Eren was eleven and Zeke was seventeen.  

After forty-five minutes, Eren has definitively decided that he hates hospital. The anti-septic smell seems to bite at his nose, the receptionist keeps eyeing them awkwardly over the top of her desk trying to pinpoint where it is that she knows him from, and his parents and Zeke are uncharacteristically silent. 

Eren reaches for Zeke’s wrist, which Zeke welcomes with a smile, as they both nervously eye their parents at their side. Eren’s not entirely sure why - since to his understanding, his grandmother is still alive for right now - but his mom has been crying for a better half of the past day, while his dad holds down the fort and does his best efforts to keep it together. Eren appreciates the small smiles that he spares for the two of them every now and then, as they all sit quietly in the waiting room. 

Zeke taps Eren on the shoulder, gesturing for him to follow him for a walk, which Eren is all but happy to oblige in, as the two of them quietly make their way down the ward. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Cookies. They have them out for New Year’s Day, Eren.” Zeke responds, looking down to give him a smile. 

Eren frowns, forgetting that the start of the new year was so close, as they walk into the little aisle. The room is decorated with hanging lights, left over from Christmas, as the two of them sit on the chairs and split the hard, crumbly cookies between the two of them. 

“Is grandma going to die or something?” Eren asks, swinging his legs off the tops of the tall chair as he leans back. 

“I don’t know, Eren. Maybe.” Zeke responds, swallowing hard.

“Oh.” 

“There’s no need to be sad about it before it happens. But Dad told me earlier, it would probably be today or tomorrow so…you should be aware of that.” Zeke states. 

Eren frowns. And Zeke recoils, at his rather blunt way of telling Eren the harsh news. 

“He didn’t tell me that.” Eren states. 

“Well, you’re younger, Eren.” Zeke responds. 

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t deserve to know.” 

Zeke brings his hand down on Eren’s hair, ruffling with it as he looks out the window. 

“That’s why I told you, kid.” 

Eren sighs. 

“Thanks.” 

Zeke shakes his head, as he gestures for Eren to join him at looking outside. The hospital workers are taking down the tree outside, as the two of them rest their windows against the sill and watch the snow fall down. 

 “Can we have hot chocolate when we go home?” Eren asks. 

“You’re old enough to make your own hot chocolate, Eren.” Zeke deadpans. 

“But you just make it so much better. Plus, don’t you want to be a good older brother?” Eren asks, giving him his best peachy smile. 

“I am a good older brother.” 

“You know what would make you even better?” 

Zeke rolls his eyes. 

“Hot chocolate?” 

Eren fakes a gasp. 

“It’s like you’re reading my mind! That’s a great idea, Zeke.” Eren responds. 

Zeke shoves Eren as the two of them laugh, reaching for another one of the hardened cookies on the platter. And that’s when they’re met with the flash of the camera and three paparazzi standing right behind them. Zeke turns around, entirely confused, as they shove the microphone into his face. 

“Zeke. Are do you have any comments on the rumors that you’re a drug dealer?” 

“The rumors that I’m what?” Zeke asks. 

Eren looks up at Zeke, entirely floored by the question, as the bright lights shine in his face a few more times. Zeke’s standing in front of him, basically obscuring his line of vision, as he watches the confusion spread on Zeke’s face and the way his jaw is tightly held against his skull. 

“A drug dealer. Through the funds in your back accounts?” 

“That’s not what I used them for. I used them for-” 

Eren watches Zeke’s face pale, as he grabs Eren’s hand tightly by the wrist and runs back into the waiting room where their parents are sitting. Except when they reach that spot, the doctor they’d seen hours prior is standing there with them, uttering the last words that Zeke could possibly want to hear at this moment. 

“We’re so sorry for your loss but-” 

And he’s cut off abruptly, by the paparazzi, who continue to flash more pictures as the Eren takes in the words, his parents crying demeanor, and understands in full that his grandmother is gone. And looks up at Zeke, unable to recognize his older brother for the first time. So meek, so awkward unlike he’s ever seen him. 

The video cuts off of the pictures of the four of them - of their pink faces and teary eyes in that waiting room - and back to Zeke, as he continues to explain. 

“That was the first time that the rumor had come to the surface, reached me in full. I later found out that there had been multiple reports of it for three days prior, that people had been speculating for days and days, and chose to finally ask me what I had thought when I was in the most headline worthy position. A few feet away from my dead grandmother. And my beloved little brother.” Zeke adds. 

You feel Eren shift next you as the video switches, this time to Sukuna. You smile, not having seen him or heard of him in so long, sparing a good thought from the writhing in your chest at the previous story. The mere presence of him, of his voice, makes your chest rumble. 

“My name is Ryomen Sukuna. And I met Scott Clarkson for the first time when I was fifteen.” 

Sukuna tries his best to not be jealous of his brother. He’s always hated that sick, rotting feeling in his stomach, and he despises that it comes up so unexpectedly, something so negative towards someone who is so unwholly undeserving of it. 

Sukuna always thought it was quite ironic that the two of them were siblings. They were such polar opposites - Yuuji being the picture-perfect, kind, intelligent person that he was. Being those things, so good, it just came so naturally to him that he made it look effortless. 

Meanwhile, Sukuna wasn’t quite sure why he acted the way he did sometimes. Sukuna knew that he wasn’t a malicious or evil person, that deep down his intentions were always well meaning, but there was a small part of him that had always struggled with that part. He knew that he wasn’t a visicous dog, but he wasn’t sure why he bit. 

It was just so hard for Sukuna. Being kind. Effortlessly kind, compassionate, and warm. He’d always say too much, be too loud, or too rude or impolite that it made it made him feel like some part of him was defective. That unbeknownst to other people, who just assumed that Sukuna was just like this, that he was hateful at heart, there was always a withstanding weight of guilt that he held with him wherever he went.  

Until he saw an opening. At one of those god awful, stupid networking events that he was always forced to go to. 

“Are you Ryomen Sukuna?” 

He looks up to find an adult, mid-forties, looking down at him. He’s wearing a nice, pressed down suit as he joins Sukuna on the floor, where he’s been demolisihing the cookie he was given into a crumbled up, chocolate mess. 

“Yes. Who are you?” 

“My name is Scott Clarkson. I’m a producer for Stone Studios. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” 

Sukuna falls into silence, as he tries his best to awkwardly shuffle his mess to the side and be as professional as he could. 

“You have a brother, correct?” Scott asks. 

Sukuna sighs, knowing all too well what’s coming next. 

“Yes, that’s right. He’s over there, standing with the tall, black-haired kid. Kinda sea urchin-y if you ask me.” Sukuna responds, pointing over to the two of them standing by the lemonade. 

Scott shrugs, crossing his hands together in his lap. 

“Tell me about his work ethic.” Scott asks. 

“Well, he’s great. He’s basically the best person to be around - I mean he’s intelligent, smart, and talented. There’s a reason that he’s in almost every movie that you see. And on top of that, he’s extremely patient and kind too. You’d be lucky to work with him, if that’s what you’re considering.” 

Scott looks over at him, eyes narrowed. 

“That’s your mistake, kid.” Scott states, the look in his eyes cold. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You should be marketing yourself. Not your brother.” Scott asks. 

Sukuna turns his head to the side, confused. 

“What? But you asked?” 

“That’s the thing. Even if someone asks about him, you should always divert the attention. To yourself. Granted, this is the reason that he’s the one who just starred in a movie while you’re waiting during the Jujutsu Kaisen hiatus.” 

Sukuna frowns, an acidic feeling crawling down the length of his throat. 

“Well-” 

“I’m just saying, kid. You should learn to advocate for yourself. There’s nothing wrong with pushing a few people around, because that’s kind of what this industry requires. You’ve got guts and talent, more than you’re wish washy brother I’m sure of it. I mean, the whole good boy bad boy thing has worked well for you so far, but if you want any chops at a real career, with people like I’ve worked with, you’ll have to solidify on these types of things.” Scott states. 

Sukuna looks straight across at the movie poster splayed on the wall. With “Institute Award Winning” and “Scott Clarkson” inscribed in it at the bottom. 

“Granted, you’re just a kid. You need someone to give you this kind of advice, an adult who knows their way around the industry. If you ever need my help, you know who to call. I could give you any type of role. Even one as the lead, as the hero, if you ever wanted it.” Scott states, sliding a silver business card into his hands and shuffling off the floor to walk away. 

The video cuts back to Sukuna, cracking his fingers as he talks - something you know well is a nervous tick of his. 

“The conversation seems quite ironic in hindsight. Scott Clarkson was the first adult in my life, one of many, that didn’t have my best interests at mind. And is most surely the last person you should take advice from.” Sukuna states. 

The video switches to Lana - and your heart clenches again, maybe even more than it did for Sukuna - at her long, brown hair and warm, pink cheeks smiling into the camera. You notice that she has a tattoo inscribed on her forearm now, a tiny little teddy bear just above the crease of her elbow, where you and Eren have your fish tattoos. 

“I’ve dreamt about being in love since I was a little kid. There was a part of me, that yearned so hard, wanted it so bad, that I would do anything for it. Even convince myself it was real.” 

Lana was convinced, for a fact, that because she had seen the worst of the worst, that she could only be subjected to the best of the best. 

That she had been so acutely aware, known from such a young age, all the signs of a terrible marriage, a loveless relationship. That you should always thank each other for the small actions, make time to see each other at least once a day, and that a true, earnest relationship takes honest work. Real effort. 

And she wasn’t exactly religious per say. But after the night had settled down, the screaming behind her door ceasing in full, she’d lift her head to the sky and whisper it into the air. Because if she put it out there, every night, and wanted it really badly, that it would happen. That manifestation or some higher power or some law of attraction - that saw that she had been through the bad so she deserved the good - would hear her out. 

And when she was nineteen years old staring at the two little lines on the pregnancy stick, she realized that no such thing existed. That manifestation was made up, that the higher powers didn’t exist or they hated her, or that maybe she had done something really horrible, so malicious, that she had to be tortured in this life for what she had done in the previous. 

Because, of course, she’s pregnant with the last person she’d ever want her kid to have as a father. 

There’s an incessant pounding on the door, as she wipes the tears off of her face, and hides the stick in the bowl of the toilet. 

“What the fuck is taking you so long, Lana?” 

“Nothing, Ricky. I think I might have a stomach bug or something.” she responds, swinging the door open to his unamused face. 

He looks up at her, almost sneering, before glancing at her up and down. He returns to aimlessly scrolling on his phone, before talking again. 

“Well, you’re still well enough to go out tonight, right? Because I don’t want to go to the bar alone.” 

Lana swallows hard, debating her options. 

“Um, well-” 

“Because I could easily take someone else.” Ricky states. 

“No! I’ll come, it’s just that-” 

“Perfect! You’re the best.” Ricky states, pressing a kiss to her cheek before padding out of the room. 

The video switches again, this time to Connie, slightly blurry through the tears in your eyes. You only realize you were crying because Eren’s hands are quick to swipe the tears away and hold a tissue out for you at your side.. You’re not sure what caused it exactly - the thought of Ricky or of Lana so scared alone in that bathroom by herself - but Eren keeps his hand on your shoulder, grounding you into the moment to focus on what Connie was saying. 

“When I was a kid, my mom used to kind of parrot the same stories about me as a kid to every person that she knew. I always used to make fun of her for it, claim that she harped on those four or five stories so hard because she couldn’t remember anything else substantial from my childhood, which was why she felt the need to always tell those embarrassing stories about me.” 

Connie breaks a smile, it reaching all the way to the crinkles in his eyes, as he continues. 

“But there’s one story that she told, that always used to make me a little bit happy. My heart a little warm, if you will. My mom always proudly recounted, with her hand placed over her heart, that I was the happiest baby. That my doctor had mentioned to her that it was very rare for him to see babies who smiled, so quick in their first day of life, but I had done it when he walked into the room. And since then, my mom has always lovingly called me her smiley boy.” Connie states. 

Connie drops his smile, before swallowing hard. 

“Which is how I know that I wholeheartedly broke her heart when she came to see me in rehab.” 

At the one month mark of being there, Connie was slowly but surely acclimating to the life in the rehab ward. The set routine of the place, the small activities that they did in groups, were quickly starting to grow on Connie and the physical effects of his body fighting against him lessening more every day. 

Today was a big achievement for him. He had finally made it through his first night of soundless sleep. And he was looking forward to today, which was Friday, meaning that Eren and possibly Lana would be visiting him. And they’d be so excited, so happy that it was working for him, that he wanted to tell him the second that he got there. 

So when the clock hit two o’clock, he excitedly walked in the visiting room to find Eren sitting there, with his steaming bowl of ramen that Eren had promised he would bring him next time. Connie finally understood why you fell in love with him all of those years ago. He’d marry Eren too if it meant he would cook for him all the time. 

“Hey Connie.” Eren states, sliding the bowl over to him. 

“Eren Bear-en. Where’s Lana?” he asks. 

“Right. She’s here. In the waiting room.” Eren states. 

“What the hell is she doing out there? Laying eggs?” Connie asks, splitting the chopsticks in his hand as he opens up the bowl. 

“Yes, actually. The kitchen came by and told her they were short.” 

“Don’t even joke about that because those bitches are crazy. I asked for an extra Jello and from the looks they gave me you’d think I was asking to be their…sperm donor or something.” 

Eren snickers, before getting an intense look from the guards on the wall for disrupting the silence, and looking back at Connie. 

“No. No, she’s actually keeping your mom some company.” 

Connie pales. 

“My mom is here?” he states, his voice grating in his throat. 

“Yeah, Connie. She doesn’t want to push and-and- she’s more than willing to go home if you’re not ready to see her yet, man. She just really insisted and she means so well that we just brought her along.” Eren states. 

“Have you been talking to her?” Connie asks. 

“Oh, yeah. She called us almost two days after you got here. We let her know what was happening and she comes by the house a lot. She asks about you the second we get back.” Eren responds. 

“Really?” Connie asks, warm tears filling his eyes. Of agonizing, burning regret. 

“Really. She’s been waiting till you seemed better, that you were ready to see her. And you don’t have to worry that she’s judging you or upset with you, man. She feels the same as Lana and I do, you- she shouldn’t be a reason for your stress. Or guilt.” Eren adds, emphasizing it as hard as he can so as to convince Connie to at least let her through. 

Connie pauses, the thoughts swimming to his mind. The overwhelming regret, that his mom has suffered all the way to meet him here, that she was ready to be at his side, the same way Eren and Lana had. He’s almost grateful that she hadn’t seen him at the worst of it - that he hadn’t shouted choice words at her like he had at Eren and Lana and you - but the embarrassment of having to recount all of that to her was daunting. 

But the thought of seeing her again, hearing that she was out there waiting with that heathen Lana, warmed that deep seated love for her in his stomach. That was yearning to see her, to tell her what had happened to him too. 

The latter feeling beat out the former one. Which is why he let Eren bring her in with Lana, as she took a cautious seat at his side and Lana slid into the one next to Eren. 

“Hi Connie Bear!” Lana states, reaching over to squeeze his hands. 

“Hi Lana Bear.” he respond, lifting his hand to do his little hand shake with Lana, which always earns him an eye roll from Eren. 

“Bear?” Connie’s mom asks, tilting her head to the side. 

“Ah. It’s just a little joke that we have. Eren Bear-en started it.” Connie states, giving him mom a smirk.

His mom smiles, looping her arm through Connie’s, as she lightly laughs into the quiet air. 

“Funny. So what would I be?” 

“Mama Bear. Obviously.” Connie states. 

She pauses, pressing her hand to Connie’s shoulder. 

“How are you, Connie? Really?” 

Connie smiles, leaning forward on the table and nervously fidgeting with his fingers. 

“I have some good news actually. For all of you.” Connie responds. 

“What’s that?” Eren asks. 

“I know that it doesn’t seem like a big deal and all and that people do it all the time but…today was the first night that I slept all the way through without waking up in the past month. In the past year actually.” 

Lana and Eren’s eyes immediately light up, which has Connie smiling, as the two of them run over to the side of his table and wrap his arms around him. His mom’s looped into his side, the three of them crushing him in the warmest, softest hug known to man.

“Connie! We’re- fuck. I’m literally crying. I’m so happy for you, kid.” Lana states, reaching forward to pinch the softness on his cheek. 

“Okay, you sap. It’s not all that.” Connie responds.

“No but it literally is, Connie. This is huge.” Eren responds, squeezing his shoulder hard. 

Connie turns to his mom noticing that she’s been trying her best efforts to quiet her sobs. Connie places a hand on her shoulder, burning with regret, at her downtrodden face. 

“Mom?” 

“Oh, Connie. My sweet, smiley boy. I’m so happy for you.” 

It’s enough to break his resolve, one that he’s been keeping together since he realized that he had all but gone through Jean and Mikasa’s engagement high. And cries straight into her arms, with Lana and Eren across from him, lightly tapping his feet under the table in support. 

The video switches, this time to Eren, as you prepare yourself for whatever you’re about to hear next. Because if the previous four were gut punches, you know for a fact that whatever Eren is about to say is going to ruin you. 

“Being in love is a privilege.” 

You take a sharp inhale. 

“There’s something so strange about it, when you think about it. That there can be two people, who share those feelings at the same time. That they overcame something, deeper than rejection or fear, because the feelings were so big, they were so great, that they just had to. And that the person, they really and truly reciprocated it.” 

Eren smiles, so wide that his dimples are showing. 

“It’s a privilege to be in love. But it’s an even bigger one to be in love, to be loved, by someone like Y/N L/N.” 

Eren and Jean, with their ears all but pressed to the door, hear the three knocks and wrestle over each other to open the door. You’re standing there, sheepish and meek as you look down the hall, and Eren reaches for your bag on the floor. Jean gives the two of you a salute, which you laugh at, and which consequently has Eren smacking his hand over your mouth for, as the two of you quickly switch spots. 

WIth Jean in your room and you in his. Eren quickly shuts the door, setting your stuff down, as you two give each other excited smiles. 

“That was super sneaky, Eren. Like Bond level.” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“Right. The two feet in between our doors was so treacherous.” 

You smack his shoulder. 

“Okay, bitch. You know nothing of my perilous travels. The floorboard creaked. I could hear Levi rustling in his sheets, I swear to god.” 

Eren drags your stuff into the room, as he places your bag on the bed. 

“What do you have in here? Your entire closet? Why is this so heavy?” 

“Well, I had to bring my night time skincare. And my morning skincare. And sometimes I get snacky at night…and my blanket obviously. And my shampoos. Those are non-negoitable.” you respond. 

“Well we can’t have you getting split ends now!” Eren responds, sarcastically. 

“Don’t even sass me right now because I could go bald without that shampoo.” 

“And I have a blanket.” 

You scoff.

“I don’t want your cooties, stinky.” 

“I don’t have cooties. And mind you, you have to kiss me in a few weeks. My cooties are going to be all up in your face, Y/N.” Eren responds. 

“That sounds gross, Eren. Like you’re purposely infecting me with your disease.” 

“I’m not infecting you with anything! I don’t even have cooties, you idiot!” 

You feign hurt, frowning at him, as you fight the urge to laugh and muster the most important performance of your life yet. 

“Eren?” you whisper. 

“What?” he asks, confused. 

“Do you really think I’m an idiot?” you murmur. 

You watch Eren’s eyes go wide, almost frazzled, as he reaches forward and cups the side of your cheek, the look in his eyes so painful that you immediately feel bad. 

“Y/N. Of course, I don’t think you’re an idiot. You’re like…the smartest person I know. Really.” 

“Eren-” 

“I’m so sorry I said that. I was just kidding, but that was a really stupid joke to make. I haven’t and won’t ever think that about you. Or say it again. You’re so-” 

“Eren.” 

“And I swear, I’m not going to say anything like that ever again. I know how shitty it can be, especially coming from a guy, and you’re working so hard to be here, more than anyone else, even though your basically the best one and-” 

“Eren, oh my gosh, you’re so sweet. I was just kidding, I didn’t mean to make you so upset.” you respond, frowning at him as he looks at you, shoulders relaxing under his touch. 

His cheeks are dusted a warm pink, the color trickling down the length of his neck. 

“Oh. Wait, really?” 

“I was just trying to see what you would say. I wasn’t expecting that and now I feel really, really bad. I’m sorry, Eren.” 

Eren sighs, laughing as he reaches forward to pinch your cheek. 

“You’re evil, you know that?” 

“I didn’t mean it!” you whine, covering your eyes in embarrassment. 

“You put that stupid little cute frown on your face and make those sad eyes at me and just expect me to keep fighting with you?” 

“Well, yeah! Jean and Connie would fight with me for the rest of their life if they could.” 

Eren reaches forward, pinching your cheek once more. 

“That’s your mistake.” 

“What is?” 

“Thinking that you and I are the same as you and Connie. Or you and Jean.” 

You feel your cheeks burn, as you nod, reaching for your bag and heading straight into the bathroom to arrange everything on the counter. You start your nightly routine, braiding your hair and placing the little foam headband in your hair as you start to massage all the cleansers and serums into your skin. 

Eren pads in after a few minutes, reaching for his toothbrush, as the two of you move around each other in silence. Eren can’t help but watch you in the mirror - with all your little bottles and sweet smelling lotions, so focused as you go about it - that he can’t help but think that he could watch you forever. 

“Eren?” 

Eren immediately breaks out of his almost trance, spitting into the sink. 

“Yeah?” 

“You should wear this while you brush your teeth. It’ll keep your hair out of the way.” you respond, handing him a little blue foam headband just like your pink one. 

“Huh?” 

“Well, your hairs getting kind of long. And Levi told me that he actually wants it even longer for next season a few months ago, so I ordered you one too when I got mine. I keep forgetting to give it to you.” you respond, placing it front of him. 

Eren lifts it in his hands, utterly touched at the fact that you had thought of him. 

“You- you got this for me?” 

“Well, yeah. I kept getting my bangs wet whenever I washed my face. And you basically look like a shaggy dog with that hair so I knew for a fact that you’d need one too. I’m basically the best friend ever if you think about it.” you respond, giving him a peachy smiile. 

“You are.” 

The video cuts back to Eren, a soft smile on his face as he talks. 

“People will take advantage of anything, in the name of business. It’s an easy way in once you find out how to manipulate someone, to make them do things that they would never do normally, to get the exact image that you want. The one that makes headlines, stirs up controversy, to get you trending.” 

--

“You find out that things function very specifically when you work at Stone Studios. And that Scott Clarkson, and his associates, make money from every aspect of the production. He makes money from the movies that he produces and more importantly, from the tabloid company that he owns.” Sukuna starts. 

Sukuna sighs, as the pictures flash on the screen. 

“Certain things are…manufactured or at least the people doing them are coerced into doing things that are lucrative. Like doctoring drama around certain movies, so that by the time the movie comes out, the drama surrounding it will drive everyone to watch it. Around relationships - because rumors regarding ex-boyfriends and problems between friends create headlines that everyone will click.” 

Sukuna’s furious. And when Hyla walks in the room - the three weeks he’s been holding onto his anger - come to a head. 

“Who did you tell?” Sukuna asks. 

She looks up at him, eyes wide in confusion, as she slouches straight into the bed and continues to scroll on her phone. He joins at her side, reaching for her phone and putting it to the side. 

“I’m being serious. Who did you tell?” he asks. 

She looks up at him, her expression bordering between bored and oblivious. 

“Who did I tell about what?” 

Sukuna sighs. Because deep down, that deep rot of feeling betrayed has been gnawing at his stomach for the past few hours. And he wants everything in him, every part of him to believe that the conversation that he had a few days ago - the first real one he’d had in a while - wasn’t just spread all over every magazine he walked past on the way home. 

“The conversation we had. About…” 

She rolls her eyes, sitting up as she crossed her legs. 

“About what? We talk about a lot of things.” she murmurs. 

“Yuuji…” he responds. 

“Oh! About how you hate him?” she asks. 

Sukuan sighs, frustrationg growing up at the premise. At the callousness in her statement. Because not only did she put up a front in the conversation they had - about how guilty Sukuna felt about harboring some negative feelings towards Yuuji since they were always in constant competition - but she was surely the one who must have whispered the story to someone who had given it to a tabloid. 

“I don’t hate him, Hyla.” 

“No, no I get it. You’re like jealous of him and stuff because he gets all these versatile roles and you basically keep getting the same asshole role. But that’s not your fault, it’s just how it goes.” she responds, shrugging. 

He clenches his jaw. 

“I get that. I just don’t get why you had to tell someone else.” 

“Well, I just told my dad. And you know how he is. If there’s something that’s going to be good for the business, he’s always been the kind of guy to go for it and do what needs to be done.” 

“What the hell is so lucrative about my relationship with my brother? We’re filming a fucking movie.” 

She sighs, cracking her knucles before she turns to him. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you a secret, but only if you promise to stop being mad at me.” 

“Well, I’m not just going to stop being mad at you. I’ve never told anyone that. Let alone my own brother, whose probably finding out about it from a fucking tabloid right now. I’ve never been one - nor am I ever going to be - someone who steps on their own family members to make it in this fucking business.” he states. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Family is everything to you and I get that.” 

He sighs, sliding open his phone to the five unread messages from Yuuji on his screen. There a set of pictures of him in front of the headlines at the store and he’s quite literally laughing at the fact that someone could even come up with something so stupid about him. 

Because despite it all, Yuuji is exactly what Sukuna says he is. He is the better brother - by tenfold - because he sees the rumors and doesn’t even believe them the second he reads them. Even through they’re true. 

“See. He’s such a good guy, he’s not even mad! No harm done!” Hyla states, smiling to herself. 

Sukuna leans back against the headboard, fully bothered, so much so that it makes his skin itch, by Yuuji’s texts as he halfheartedly murmurs. 

“What were you going to say? Earlier?” 

“Oh. Well don’t tell anyone. Especially not the girls okay, because they’d basically kill me. But you know WBS? The tabloid company?” she asks. 

“Yeah…” 

“My dad owns it. That was actually his original venture. He started it with these two music producers - Danny and Sareen - they work with that Y/N girl from Attack on Titan actually. And sometimes they just kind of….fabricate stuff for news. Whatever sells right?” 

Sukuna swallows that bitter, acidic feeling in his throat. That his feelings about his brother, that he shared in confidence, were good enough for the headline. 

Good enough to be sold out. 

The camera switches back to Sukuna, sitting in the chair. 

“I feel kind of stupid in hindsight. For actually liking her, I guess. For believing that any of them were real, earnest people. I’m embarrassed that I stayed for so long, on the premise that I was fighting for something real.” Sukuan states. 

“What made you leave?” the producer asks. 

“The last shred of self-preservationist instinct I had. I was put into a situation, multiple times, where I felt unsafe. And when it went too far, I decided that I had enough. And that I was going to go out with a bang if I had to. If they want a headline, I’ll damn well give them one.” Sukuna states, smirking. 

“You felt unsafe?” the producer clarifies. 

“Look. I don’t need to rehash the details out of what happened. I’m sure that you could even find videos of it if you wanted to. But Scott Clarkson, he’s very quick to forget the fact that he’s working with children. I may play adults in my films, but I was very much still a child.” 

You pale, the implication entirely clear. You look over at Eren, whose eyes are fixed towards the floor, as you wipe the tears from your eyes, as the video switches back to Eren and Lana who are seated at the table. 

“When Levi and Hange ventured out on their own and decided to produce their own show, they ruffled lots of feathers. That’s something I overheard on set quite often before Eren ever started on the show. They were mad, essentially, that they had circumvented the whole producing aspect of it, choosing to be in control of every aspect of the production. And honestly, that they were successful with it.” 

“Levi and Hange basically set a standard, especially for other people who were at their class the SWHA cohort. Jujutsu Kaisen basically followed suit short after - with almost all of the people in our class being funneled into either of those two shows. Which was aggravating, because it basically means that people who own the companies, like Scott Clarkson, don’t get their upcoming crop of stars to handpick form.” Eren states. 

“Unfortunately for us, that didn’t really quite stop them. It started out with a simple fact - that Scott Clarkson knew for a fact that Eren would refuse to work with him.” Lana states. 

“The first time I met Scott Clarkson he had rubbed me the wrong way. Because he refused to acknowledge that Y/N was standing right at my side.” Eren responds. 

Eren was painfully aware of the fact of how uncomfortable you were. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was - maybe the fact that you had never been here before or that you didn’t quite know anyone like he did from growing up with them - but he figured that it would be a better idea for the two of you to go outside. 

But before he could, a man stops him, tapping him on the shoulder to talk to him. You both stop in your tracks, half turning around, to look at him. He’s extremely tall, looming over the two of you, and Eren can feel you shrink at his side. He looks at Eren, a self-assured smile pressed on his face as he introduces himself. 

“Scott Clarkson. I’m a producer for Stone Studios.” 

“I’m Eren Jaeger. This is-” 

“I know who you are, Eren. I was invited to see one of the first cuts of the latest movie you just filmed and-” 

Before he can even understand what’s happening, he has his hand on Eren’s shoulder and they’re walking down the length of the hall, the end of their conversation lost to you. Eren looks back and you give him a halfhearted smile as he tries to turn back, before getting stuck in a larger group of people. 

“Do you have any projects lined up for your Attack on Titan hiatus?” Scott asks. 

“Yeah. Sukuna and I are filming the next Conjuring movie. Though if you’re looking for someone, my friend Y/N-” 

“No need. We’re here to talk about you.” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“I already have a roll. And she doesn’t. And you know how big she’s going to be - she can even sing!” Eren states. 

Scott sighs. 

“There’s a reason that I’m standing here talking to you. I’m well seasoned in these type of things - just like your parents. I promise you, with a breakout show like that, only one person can come out as the star. Don’t you want to make sure that it’s going to be you?” 

“Levi and Hange made it out together. I don’t know why we couldn’t do the same.” Eren responds. 

Luckily enough for him, his parents had arrived just at that moment and given him his much needed chance to run away. 

“I wasn’t going to sell out that fast. Especially for someone who was so quick to bad mouth my best friend, who was basically the only person that I got to consistently talk to and be with at the time, I….” 

“Eren’s very loyal. Let’s just leave it at that. And it’s precisely just because of that loyalty, especially to Hange and Levi who had thrown a wrench in every one of his profits, that they wanted Eren specifically. He has every makings of one of his stars. He has famous parents, an estranged brother, and a girl that can be thrown at the end of every headline.” Lana adds. 

Eren sighs. 

“The Attack on Titan hiatus was the perfect chance for them to get what they wanted. On one side, Danny and Sareen were building Y/N up. They were pushing her into making albums, way faster than she should have been by the way, adding more and more accolades to her name. And on the other side, they were dragging me into the mud. Purposely switching my movies at the last minute to make sure I was on the shitty one, making award show annoucers make crappy jokes about me so I’d feel like shit.” Eren responds. 

The video switches to the last award show that you and Eren had technically attended together. The one where you announced that you were coming out with your second studio album and where you had won Actress in a Lead Role. Except, the video isn’t how you remembered it. Or that this time, you’re actually aware of what had been going on in Eren’s head. 

“Here we have an international pop-star, Y/N L/N. Originally a small town girl from Canada, her soft spoken love songs, phenomenal acting, and insane dance act have left no heart untouched.” the announcer states. 

Eren looks over at you in the video, his eyes so warm and his smile so wide, as he looks at you proudly. 

“And you. What’s your name again? It’s sweet they let fans sit with stars now.” the headliner asks him, eliciting a large amount of laughter from the crowd as he walks on. 

That’s when you see it. That Eren’s face immediately dropped and was washed over in shame. And that he got up and walked away. 

And more importantly, that you hadn’t followed. 

“I later found out that joke was very deliberate. That announcer was told to make that joke about me because they were almost positive that I would leave. And when Y/N won the award - and I was moping in one of the lounges about how much of a failure I was, how she was going to leave me for someone better - Scott Clarkson approached me. In the same way that he had approached Sukuna. Promising me that he could make me a star. That I could meet Y/N where she was and be next to her too.” Eren states. 

“It was pretty easy to guess how the rest went. Y/N and Eren being in a relationship wasn’t exactly headline worthy, when they had been basically attached at the hip for years. But you know what was? The two of them breaking up.” 

“I obviously can’t speak for Y/N. I don’t know what was going through her head at that point. But from what she made it seem like….Danny and Sareen had asked her to do it. I know that they had asked her to write songs like London Boy and most of the songs on her album for that precise reason, it….doesn’t seem far off.” Eren states. 

“It seems stupid in hindsight. To take someone’s advice at the surface level like that and so blindly believe in them. But when you think of the examples that Eren and Y/N really had, people like Levi and Hange who wanted nothing but the best for them, who basically loved them like they were a second set of parents, it’s hard to believe that everyone around you doesn’t really have your best interest in mind. That and the fact that they were fucking nineteen.” Lana adds. 

“And that’s when we get to the Girlfriend incident. And more importantly, the day that Lana and I became friends.” Eren states, looking over to smile at her. 

Eren had locked the door, and pushed everyone out of the room the second they had stopped watching that stupid music video hours ago. And after the fact, he’s watched it three more times - you and Ricky dancing through the street and smiling at each other - while all he can do is drown in his despair. 

That is until he hears a soft sniffling in the hallway behind him and a hushed voice talking on the phone in the doorway. He presses his ear the door, the voice loud, as he catches the ends of the conversation, recognizing that it was Lana. 

“Can you just stay with him for a few more hours, please? I don’t think that I can leave.” 

“Please. I want to come home really badly too, but they’re already so upset with me after what I said last night that I just-” 

“Thank you so much. I really love you, you know that?” 

The phone call ends abruptly and Eren, letting his curiosity get the best of them, opens the door to find Lana sitting flat against the wall, with her head in her hands. He can tell that she must have been crying for a better part of the last hour, her hair all unruly and tangled in a way that he had never really seen it before. 

Eren shuffles into the spot next to her, against the wall, as he wipes his own red eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Eren asks. 

“Why? Trying to rub it in my face?” Lana asks, rather miserably. 

“No. I just…heard you on the phone.” Eren asks. 

Her eyes go wide, as she looks over at him rather frantically. 

“What did you hear?” she asks. 

“I mean, basically nothing.” Eren murmurs. 

The two of them sit there awkwardly, unsure of what to say to the other. That’s until Lana turns to him, a determined look on her face as she talks. 

“Are you trying to make me feel shitty because I did it to you?” Lana asks. 

“No. I’m not you, Lana.” Eren deadpans. 

“I didn���t mean-

“Didn’t mean what? To make me look like a dumbass on stage? Just tell me what the hell is wrong if you’re going to talk so loudly outside of my door.” Eren mutters, irritated. 

“Okay. We’re going to play a game, alright? Let’s pretend we’re different people.” Lana states. 

“What?” 

“I want to talk about something and I’m sure you do too, but it’s weird to do it like this. So we’ll pretend. I’m going to be La-La and you’re going to be Po.” she states. 

“Like the Telletubbies….?” 

“Yeah. Does that work? You can’t say anything to anyone, because….well that would just be fucking rude.” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay, Po. The thing is, I feel really bad. I did this really shitty thing to this guy who seems really nice and all. Except, I was standing on stage and they kind of asked me to do it right then and there so I kind of just went with it.” 

Oh. Eren gets it. This is her weird way of apologizing. 

“Well, why did she do it in the first place?” 

She scoffs. 

“You’re so nosy, bitch.” 

Eren laughs, which has her relaxing her shoulders, before she talks again. 

“Eren. Please don’t tell anyone, okay? This is really serious.” 

Eren breaks, the seriousness in her demeanour stoppign him. 

“I promise. What is it?” 

She sighs, holding out a picture to him on her phone. It’s a picture of her and a little boy, with short, curly brown hair. 

“This is my son. His name is Theodore, but…I call him Teddy. Like…Teddy Bear? And I feel so shitty, Eren but…they kind of hold him against me sometimes when it comes to things like this. So when they ask me to do things, I just do them.” Lana states. 

“They hold you against him?” 

“I mean….I try really hard to protect his privacy, Eren. He’s just a kid. I mean, he’s barely even two years old right now. And I know your parents, I’m sure you know that growing up in the spotlight isn’t the best place to be.” 

Eren frowns, looking down at the picture. He’s never really quite thought it before, but he thinks that Lana is really pretty. Or more appropriately, that Lana looks very pretty when she smiles. And that he’s never seen her smile like this before. 

“I get that. So what do they do? Threaten to tell?” Eren asks. 

“I mean, they usually find out where I’m keeping him. I tend to keep him moving from different houses, with security in all that, to make sure that he’s safe from that type of thing. And-” 

“Does he stay with his dad?” Eren asks. 

Lana sighs, resting her chin against her knees. 

“Eren. Ricky isn’t good news. And your little girlfriend or friend or whatever…she’s in really risky territory right now.” she states. 

“What do you mean?” Eren asks. 

She almost flinches, withholding of what it is exactly that’s on the tip of her tongue. 

“Eren. He’s just not a good guy. You should make sure that someone is with her, that she’s not ever alone with him. Just take my word for it. There’s a reason my son doesn’t get to see him, why I avoid him like the plague.” she states. 

Eren can see the tears filling in her eyes - and makes a mental note to drop the topic and relay the information to Connie or Jean later. 

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Lana.” 

“I know. That’s why I feel even worse. I’m really sorry for what I did, Eren.” 

“That’s okay. Let’s just make a deal.” 

“What’s that?” 

“I’ll help and you’ll help me. Pacts between Tellytubbies are really sacred.” Eren states, feigning seriousness. 

“You’re stupid.” 

“And you’re annoying.” he responds. 

Lana laughs, teary eyed, as she reaches forward and shakes on it. 

“I only became really aware of the problem after Lana had pointed it out to me. And became even more frustrated with them, with all of them, when I had realized what they had been saying to her. Making comments about her body to her, despite the fact that she had literally given birth, and incessantly teasing her about her son, who is basically my favorite person in the world, by the way. That they would purposely put alcohol in her drinks, when she couldn’t drink at the time.” 

The clips cut, this time to Eren and Lana, in a different mix of videos of playing with Teddy. You recongize him straight on, as the kid that you had met with Eren before the two of you had talked on the beach, and feel your heart burn at the fact that you had met Lana’s son and not known it. That Lana and Eren had to fight to make sure that he was safe, that she was doing anything for him. 

“Eren and I basically had an arrangement. We both had houses off of set in Seattle, that we should shuffle him between, along with my brother Landon. There was someone with Teddy at all times, and at that age, he wasn’t really old enough to question the fact. His mom was always there to put him to bed at night, and sometimes his best friend Eren was there to do it too, so it didn’t mean too much to him.” 

Eren sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“It all started going downhill the week that I got hurt. Because, of course, that’s when Connie arrived on set.” 

Lana wasn’t really paying attention when it had happened. Her nose was stuck in her own script, headphones over her ears, as she practiced the next scene she was going to be in. 

When she looked up, three minutes after the fact, that’s when she saw it. That Eren was tangled with the cords that were suspending him in the air and that he was hanging unconscious upside down. 

“What the hell are you doing? Take him down from there.” Lana states, incessantly shaking at Scott’s shoulder as he watched Eren in the viewfinder. 

“What the hell are you talking about, Price?” 

“He’s not fucking breathing. What the hell are you talking about?” 

“He’s acting. Did you not read your script before you got here?” he asks, annoyed as he gestures for the crew around him to continue. 

Lana looks up, every gut feeling of hers screaming in her stomach, as she runs on to the set, climbing on to the makeshift ladder and reaching for Eren stuck between the strings. 

“Eren. Eren, wake up.” 

Except he doesn’t budge in his arms, instead swinging back and forth from the way he’s precariously hanging on the strings. She presses her fingers to his neck, his pulse slightly weak under her fingers, as she can feel the tears burning in her eyes. 

“What the hell is wrong with you guys? Why can’t you just give him a break? He’s been going at it for like four hours.” 

“Price. You’re ruining the shot.” Scott states, rather irritated. 

“Take him down. Now.” 

Scott rolls his eyes, walking over to the switchbox at his side. He reaches for the lever, placing his hand on the stick, as he all but glares at Lana. 

“You want it that bad? Here.” 

And he pushes the lever all the way down, sending Eren straight to the ground on his head. Lana can feel the panic rushing through her as she basically tumbles down, turning Eren’s head over in her hands, and being met with red, warm blood on her hands. She gives a weary eye to the crew, who phone the ambulance, as she follows in her own car. 

“I think that was the first time that I realize that really, truly - these people don’t care about anything but getting the shot. I get that Eren was supposed to look like he was dead in that scene, but tiring him out to get the perfect shot was far from what he needed to do.” 

“I sustained a concussion that left me in the hospital for a week. And I had three long lacerations down the length of my back from the harnesses that we were using, that basically sliced it on impact. That I still have scars from by the way.” Eren states. 

You reach for Eren’s hand, squeezing hard on his wrist, as the video continues. 

“When we finally made it back to set, Connie was there. And it’s not that I don’t love Connie, that I wouldn’t have loved to see him there, but I already knew that it wasn’t going to go well.” Eren states. 

Eren sighs. 

“I know, logically, that you can’t really blame these things on people. That Connie wasn’t my responsibility and that addiction is a real, physical disease that he had to battle against. But I just can’t help but feel like I could have stopped him if I was there.” Eren states. 

“When I got to set, everyone around me hyped me up over the same basic thing. That Eren was out of commission, for reasons that they wouldn’t exactly tell me, and that I should take his spot as the lead. It was only a few days into shooting and that it would be an easy switch if I had just asked Scott if I could take his role.” Connie states. 

Connie sighs. 

“It was a simple thing that they were telling me. That Eren - he had gotten to be the lead role, hundreds of times over. That Levi had picked Eren out of everyone as the best, that he was extra hard on him because he knew that he could make a star. And that really, I had never gotten the same kind of exposure that Eren had, the type that comes from being a lead.” Connie states. 

The video cuts - to videos of Connie and Eren filming on the set of Attack on Titan - the two of them playing pranks on Erwin and Hange together, running around each other between scenes, and laughing at Historia and Ymir walking past. 

“Eren is one of my best friends. I would never want to side swipe him like that, so I decided that I was going to ask Eren for the role. And I was really self-assured that Eren would give it to me. Because he’s always been giving in that sense, he always had been with Armin and Y/N, and he would for me too.” Connie states. 

“Just to clarify, the reason that I didn’t let Connie take the role at that point was because I had quite literally sustained a concussion from doing it. I was never going to let him step into that - no matter how hard he begged me to.” Eren responds. 

“And so I got really hurt by it. And then everyone around me, they kept whispering it in my ear. That Eren couldn’t handle anyone but him being the star. That Eren thought I had no business being there, that I wasn’t made to be in a lead role. And for some reason, I don’t know fucking why, I thought that they were being honest with me. That they were being earnest. They kept bringing up the Girlfriend incident, that Eren was so quick to drag Y/N down the first chance he got, and that he would do the same to me too. I had so much trust in these people that I would do anything to stay friends with them. Because they were real. And unfortunately for me, I did. And one of the shittiest things I ever did was fight with Eren because of it.” Connie stated. 

Eren found out, three months after the fact, that Connie had been doing drugs. He had his suspicions, since Connie had been spending so much time around Myka, and acting so weird and skittish around him that something had to be up. 

So after he dropped Teddy off to Landon’s and head back to set with Lana, the two of them were prepared to talk to him about whatever it was, to clear the air. Except when they got there and knocked on Connie’s door, they found him lying face down on the desk, fast asleep with a small mound of white powder and a small trickle of blood down his nose. 

“Connie. Connie, wake up.” Eren states, rigidly shaking his entire frame. 

“Oh my gosh. Oh my god, Eren what do we do?” Lana states, her hands on his shoulder as he hears her sniffling in his ear. 

“Connie. Dude, you have to wake up now. Come on.” Eren states. 

Connie lightly shuffles in his sleep, as Eren backs up out of the way, with Lana behind him. Connie wakes up, half there, as his eyes focus in on Eren and he pales. That Connie’s giving him the most agitated, mean look that he’s ever gotten in his life. That he’s ever seen Connie sport in his life. 

“Connie. Hey, you-” 

“What do you want, Eren?” he asks. 

“We were just worried about you, dude. We haven’t talked in so long, and that’s our fault, but-” 

“I’m not good enough for you, right? You’re too big of a star to be friends with someone as low on the food chain as me right?” Connie responds, seething. 

Eren frowns. 

“Connie, hey man. What are you talking about? We’ve been like family since we were little. Why would I-” 

“Why didn’t you give me the lead role? Why the fuck are you and Lana always sneaking around behind my fucking back? Don’t play the family card in my face when you’re the one who fucking abandoned me, Eren.” 

“Connie. I’m really sorry that I-” 

That’s when Connie lifts his hand, jolting it straight across Eren’s face. He can feel the immediate, immense pressure on his nose, the bright red shooting out of his nostrils as he looks back up at Connie. 

“Connie. We can’t-” 

“We can’t what? You won’t fight me?” 

“No, Connie. I’m not going to fight you.” Eren states. 

“Why not? You’re still too good for me, aren’t you? You’re too good for Y/N, too good for me, too good for anyone who fucking got you there.” Connie states, swinging again. 

Connie’s movements are loose, uncoordinated, which is when Eren reaches for his arm, just to pin him to the ground underheath him. There’s a sweltering guilt when he does it, holds Connie down, and it only increases in magnitude when Connie cries underneath him, cursing his name. 

“Two weeks after my fight with Connie, my worst possible outcome occurred. That I have friends, who love me more than anything, and wanted to surprise me for my birthday. Y/N and Armin came to Seattle. And Y/N….she wanted to tell me that she still loved me.” Eren states. 

“That was the worst possible time that they could have shown up. Because they were this close to leaking my secret, basically telling me that it was any day now that it was going to happen, after finding out that Eren and I were planning on breaking our contracts, just to be out of the situation for good. We had even reached out to Levi and Hange about it, which they had found out about very fast.” Lana states. 

“I saw Y/N for the first time at my birthday dinner and was immediately floored at the fact that she was there. And Armin had quickly told me, when I had scurried away to the bathroom to check on her, so I knew what I had to do. I left my birthday dinner, with Hyla, to break up with her then and there. When I knew that I had a chance at getting Y/N back.” Eren states. 

“Do you want to get out of here? Just you and me?” 

Hyla gives him a giddy smile as she nods, putting her hand in his, as he drags her out, with his arm secured around his waist. And the second that he can drive them slightly out of earshot, back to the house where he can talk to her in private, there’s a weight that’s lifted off of his chest when he gets to say it. 

“I’m breaking up with you.” Eren states. 

Hyla frowns, squinting her eyes at him. 

“Okay but like…technically, we aren’t even dating. It’s just a publicity thing.” Hyla states. 

“Whatever this is. I want out. I-I’m not doing it anymore.” Eren states. 

Hyla laughs, sitting criss crossed on the couch, as she looks up at him. 

“My dad is going to be super pissed at you, Eren.” 

Eren smiles, lighter than he had been feeling in the four years that he had been stuck in this godforsaken house. Because truly, the reason that had brought him here, didn’t matter anymore. 

Levi and Hange were on his side - and they were going to help him out of this - and more importantly, you were back. The two of you were going to be together again, despite wherever the hell the two of you were going to be stuck. 

“I don’t care. My contrat is almost up anyways. And I can imagine that the same headlines get boring over time, Hyla. I think it’s time to call it quits.” 

Eren looks down at her, busily typing away on her phone, as she looks up at him. 

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Eren?” Hyla states. 

“Yeah. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” 

“Fine. You can meet with my dad tomorrow to talk about it. He’s been thinking about bringing Ricky James on for a while anyways.” Eren states. 

“Be my guest. You guys would fucking love him.” Eren states, running off. 

“I was still on Cloud Nine that night. And it was making my skin itch, knowing that Y/N was like four feet away from me and we were going to be together again. So I woke her up in the middle of the night and took her to the beach outside of one of the houses that Lana and I owned. And-” 

Eren tears up in the video, as you fight away the warm tears that are welling in your own eyes. 

“During that entire night, I-I was so fucking happy again. All of the things that seemed so consequential to me when I was seventeen, that I needed to be at the same level as Y/N to be with her - which would basically be impossible, because she was always going to be better than me - seemed so ridiculous. The two of us, we just got to be real people in the second. The way that we always got to be when we were together.” Eren states. 

“The following morning, Scott had shockingly agreed to let Eren and I be dismissed from our contracts, given that we finished off the press deals that we had going on. Which included the interview that we were going to do on the Life in Love podcast. Which should have ben our first, glaring red flag. That of course, we were never going to be let off that easy.” Lana states. 

“It was simple. I guess-I guess I was so fucking happy that I got to talk about me and Y/N, what the two of us coming back together meant to me, that I put it all out there. And the WBS paid off Life in Love and edited the version of the podcast that was released.” Eren states. 

“Granted, the part that’s always floored us that people never questioned it once. That the podcast clip that was released was barely ten minutes, when the episodes are usually an hour. That the podcaster has to ask questions to provoke the answers and that they weren’t even in the fucking video. And most of all - the fact that I didn’t even fucking talk thoughout the entirety of the interview.” Lana adds. 

“I would have told Y/N. I would have told her the full truth then and there and I know that she would have believed me. Except, the person that I least expected, came to me beforehand and stopped me from doing it.” Eren states. 

Eren’s met with an incessant pounding at his door, as he shoves all of his last belongings into his bag, ready to take off with you and Armin - and making your best efforts to drag Connie with you. 

Eren opens the door to find Myka at his door, out of breath and panting. 

“What?” Eren asks. 

“Eren. You can’t leave.” 

“Oh what the fuck do you want now? I’m taking Connie with me and that’s the fucking last of it.” Eren states. 

“No, Eren. Really. You can’t go right now.” she states, pushing into his room and fervently sliding through her phone. 

She hands him over the phone, with the email chain, as he anxiously reads through it and feels his heart drop. 

“There’s no way. They can’t do that right?” 

The email chain has the headlines - printed out and ready for distribution. Of them displaying every one of the last secrets that he wants out there front and center. About Connie being a drug addict, about Lana and Teddy, and of him and Y/N being homewreckers on the beach. 

“It’s just a headline. We’ll be fine.” 

“Eren. I read the article. They wrote about her brother’s in the article. About Lana and Ricky too - in detail.” 

“What do you mean in detail?” 

“They know everything, Eren. About every last detail of what he did to her, Eren. They’re going to put it all out there tomorrow, the second that you leave. And Y/N’s brothers…haven’t they literally been attacked before? This will be tenfold to that, Eren.” 

Eren sighs, shaking the thought from this head. 

“We’ll send them a security detail. And Lana, Connie, they’ll be-” 

“Eren. You know for a fact that Lana doesn’t want anyone to know that he even exists. And Connie’s career. He’s never going to recover from this. And it’s- Y/N won’t be happy, Eren.” She states. 

“So what the hell do you want me to do? Just stay here? Because there’s no way in hell that I’m letting Y/N stay here with me. And I know her - she’s not going to leave here without me.” 

“They have Falco and Colt’s addresses, Eren. And-and don’t tell anyone but fucking Danny and Sareen? Her producers? They’re in on it. Sareen is literally Scott’s cousin, Eren. They’re planning on taking Y/N’s music away from her, so that they can make money off if it without giving her a cut.” 

Eren pales. 

“They’re going to do that if she stays here. And you know for a fact that you can’t leave because Connie won’t go and Teddy and- Eren you have to stay. She has to leave.” 

“I can’t even fucking trust you. I don’t know what shitty game you’re trying to play here but it’s not funny.” 

“I care about you guys.” 

“Yeah right.” 

“Okay, maybe not about you. But Lana….I care about Lana. This is the last thing she would want, she literally works so hard to make sure that no one will know about him for good reason. It would kill her to see it all get leaked.” 

“Who the fuck is Lana to you? You don’t even-” 

Eren understands it all too quickly. The pained flash that overtakes her eyes, the eway she’s so incessantly pleading on Lana’s behalf. 

It’s because she’s in love with Lana. 

Eren sighs, pinching his eyes shut. 

“Do you have the article? I have to read it before I decide.” Eren states. 

She nods, as she opens up the next email chain andhands him the phone. And when he reads through it, each consecutive sentence makes his stomach hurt, making it glaringly obvious what he has to decide. 

Because the all but declare a smear chain against you and your brothers, slut shame you for what happened on he beach, drag Hange and Levi’s name to the blood, and leave no detail of Lana’s relationship with Ricky out. Things that no person should have aired out and Connie’s section nearly career ruining. 

“Fuck. So what do I do? I mean-” 

Eren can feel the tears burning in his eyes, as the leave warm, hot streaks down his skin. 

“You have to make sure she leaves, Eren. You can’t have Y/N stay here. It’ll put things back to normal.” Myka states, downtrodden. 

“She’s not going to leave. If I tell her, she’s going to want to stay with me. To be in my side during this and-” 

“Say what you have to. To make her leave.” 

“Think of the worst possible thing you could say, Eren.” 

“I did what she asked. I-I made sure that she would leave. And in hindsight, the entire situation seems so stupid that me. That there were ten other things that I could have done, but…in that moment, I did what I thought was right.” 

“It was idiotic in hindsight. Because it stopped them from running their smear campaigns on Lana and Connie, but Y/N was the one who got side sweeped in the middle of it.” Connie states. 

“That’s where I came in. Danny and Sareen had reached out to me about everything that had happened with Y/N and Eren. Told me that I needed to amke sure that she came out of this on the other side, that she couldn’t let a guy take her career away from her. And anyone who knows the half of it about me knows for a fact that it was the right thing that they needed me to say, to get her to do it. And really, they had purposely picked everyone who went to see Y/N. Jean, not Mikasa, because he had a personal interest in seeing Eren hurt, because he was hurt too. And Sukuna, who would never advise her head on, but support what she wanted to do in full.” Historia says. 

You groan, hanging your head in your knees as you know exactly what’s coming next. 

That Danny and Sareen had given Scott and his stupid tabloid company exactly what he wanted. That they were the one pushing you to sing all three songs, that each consecutive piece of information made you more irritated, more mad as you went on to perform. And worse than that - Danny and Sareen made it a point to talk to Eren before the show, just to taunt him to his face. 

“I had reached out to Levi and Hange for their help two weeks before the award show happened. And luckily enough for me, they helped us out of the situation, fast. Connie, Lana, Sukuna, and I sued Scott Clarkson for defamation of character, mistreatment of employees, and a dangerous workplace. We got to end our contracts early. And then moved forward.” Eren states. 

The video changes to different clips, each one striking deep in your heart. Of Connie blowing out the candles on his one year anniversary of being sober as Teddy blows out his birthday candles, of Eren and Zeke getting along, and of the four of them all together, laughing at stupid videos of each other. And Eren signing along with Lana, brings the tears pouring down your eyes. 

There was nothing left to do (Oh-oh, oh-oh) When the butterflies turned to dust that covered my whole room So I punched a hole in the roof (Oh-oh, oh-oh) Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you Rain came pouring down When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe And by morning Gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean (Oh, oh, oh, oh)

“Make no mistake. There was so much that was taken out of us, in the years that we spent working there at Stone Studios. In being part of an environment that was so shitty, so damaging to who we were and the mental state that we were living in, in the name of making a good movie. But there was good that came out of it too.” 

The clips switch, this time shocking you so deeply in your core that it makes your heart burn. Because the clips are of Sukuna and Lana, together. Swinging their hands together on the beach, cooking together in the kitchen, and kissing each other on the cheek. 

“I know for a fact now, that the tiny little wishes that I made against my bedroom door have come true. Because I’ve been lucky enough to be blessed with the warmest, most compassionate partner that I could have ever wanted.” 

Which is when you notice it. That in the video, Sukuna has the same little teddy bear tattoo as Lana on his forearm. And that they both have the tattoo for their son. 

Your past and mine are parallel lines Stars all aligned and they intertwined And taught you The way you call me, "Baby" Treat me like a lady All that I can say is All of the girls you loved before (ooh) Made you the one I've fallen for Every dead-end street Led you straight to me Now you're all I need I'm so thankful for All of the girls you loved before But I love you more

“Lana is the love of my life. I’m glad that every shitty thing in my life was just…preparation for me to get to her. Because every shitty betrayal, every crappy headline, every deep rooted hard feeling in my chest, she’s the person who was made to handle it. She’s gentle, she’s warm, and she’s everything I’ve ever wanted. And I’d go down this path a hundred times more if Teddy and Lana were always the ones waiting for me at the end.” Sukuna states. 

“It was a horrible situation. But it’s taught us to appreciate the very best. For me, I finally got to reconcile with my older brother, who go to tell me the real story of what happened to him as a kid. And now, I’ve gotten to rectify one of the most important relationships in my life.” Eren states. 

“I feel really shitty for how things went down, Eren.” Zeke states. 

Eren nods, hiking his knees to his chest, as he rests his chin against his legs. Hange and Levi had invited Zeke over in his little retreat in the house, as they prepared for the case at the end of the week, just to talk things out. Hange and Levi had all but forced Eren to be polite and at least hear him out. 

“I’m sure you’re too young to remember. But, that day at the hospital. They had started the rumors that I was funding drug dealers through money that I had in my back accounts.” Zeke states. 

“Well, what did you actually do with that money? Because I know for a fact that Mom and Dad had actually found money being shoveled out of your savings, Zeke.” 

He frowns. 

“You know my Mom, Eren?”

“What kind of dumbass question is that? We have the same mom, idiot.” 

“No, Eren. My biological mother.” 

“Oh, sorry. Dina, right?” 

“She’s not a good person. And I know that. But, she had reached out to me. Asking for money. She said that she needed the money for hospital bills and all that and that Dad wouldn’t return her calls. And that she feels horrible asking of this, because she knows I’m her son and she should have taken care of me, butcher really, reallyneeded it.” Zeke states. 

“And she…spent it on drugs.” Eren states. 

“Yeah. And Mom and Dad knew that, they believed me when I told them.” 

“They did?” 

“Yeah. But it was my decision to distance myself away from you guys. I wasn’t planning on doing it but…Mom lost a magazine cover, Dad lost a role, and…I knew that this was your dream. That you wanted to make it big and you couldn’t really make it big with me attached to your name.” 

“Zeke. That’s so stupid. I wouldn’t have cared about that. And I don’t care because-” 

“Eren. You don’t care now. There comes a point where everyone reaches this kind of stage. Where thje politics and the shitty tabliods, they make you realize that all of these things are really inconsequential. But at that age, this was all that you wanted. And I’d hate foryou to secretly resent me, resent my shitty decisions, becuase they were the ones that were holding you back.” 

“Zeke…”

“I’m just glad to have you back as my brother now. I know my actions don’t really make it seem that way, but you kind of meant the world to me, man.” 

The camera cuts, to a black screen with text on it, as the movie closes out. 

Eren Jaeger, Lana Price, Connie Springer, and Ryomen Sukuna sued Scott Clarkson and Stone Studios on November 6th. The four of them reached a settlement with the studio, each recieiving twenty-five millions dollars each from the Clarkson Conglomerate. 

Lana Price and Ryomen Sukuna have decided to split their settlement money two ways. Both are dedicating a half to ensure that they can continue to fund and upkeep security costs for their son, Theodore Price. And together, the two of them are donating the other half of their money to sexual assault victims, in hopes to support those who have similar experiences to the two of them. 

Connie Springer has decided to donate all of his settlement money in order to support the establishment of rehab centers in various cities throughout the country. He hopes to create an advocacy network for those who have struggled and hopes to shine a light on the problems that exist in the current, underfunded programs. 

Eren Jaeger, along with his settlement money, has asked Stone Studios for two additional items. First, he has asked for a copy of the original interview that he did for Life in Love, which he plans to return to Y/N L/N, who he claims was the only person who deserved to hear those words in the first place, the first chance he gets. 

Second, Eren Jaeger negotiated with the conglomerate for weeks for the masters to Y/N L/N’s album, The Lucky One. The negotiation was short-lived, but the Scott Conglomerate has promised to return the rights of the music to Y/N L/N. 

And third. Eren Jaeger has decided to donate his settlement money to fund arts programs throughout the Candian Provinces. Eren Jaegers album, Valedictorian, will donate all of the money produced in it’s first calendar year to the same cause. 

“Y/N has dreamed about being a triple threat since she was a kid. But the first time that she ever felt that the dream was real was when, according to her, a group of hippie dippies in her hometown had raised money and petitioned to fund the arts program at her school. Which in turn, helped her realize that this was something that she loved. More so than just something that she wanted to do as a career, but something that was so in tune with who she was as a person, that she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from doing it even if she wanted to. And I’d hate for people to look at me, or at her, and be dissuaded from coming into this industry, no matter how shitty it is. There’s really depth to her art and her work that can’t and wont’ ever be diminished by any of this. Which was the point of all of this anyway.” 

The video switches, this time to different clips of you and Eren. Of the two of you at awards shows togethers, sitting in interviews together laughing, and the nearly thousands of clips that Connie has made of you two together throughout the years. 

Of the two of you in love. 

I still remember the look on your face Lit through the darkness at 1:58 The words that you whispered for just us to know You told me you loved me So why did you go away?

“Make no mistake. Y/N L/N is the love of my life. She’s everything you want in the person you want to spend the rest of your life with and more. She’s compassionate, sensitive, and always been so understanding of me. There’s never been, and going to be, someone in my life that has such a pull on me the way she does. She’s the moon, she’s the only reason that I even push and pull in the way that I do. I wouldn’t be sitting here, in this chair today, telling my truth if she hadn’t been so brave, so truthful as to do it first. And I wouldn’t be sitting here, still wholeheartedly believing in love, even though I lost it, because I know for a fact that it would be a disservice to what we shared to turn myself away from it.” 

I never thought we'd have a last kiss I never imagined we'd end like this Your name, forever the name on my lips So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe And I'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are Hope it's nice where you are

“It’s always that dumb question that people ask. Would you rather love and lose it or not love at all?” 

And I hope the sun shines and it's a beautiful day And something reminds you, you wish you had stayed You can plan for a change in the weather and time But I never planned on you changing your mind

“The correct answer is always to chose love. And it’s an easy question when the person you’re loving is love personified.” Eren finishes. 

You turn over to Eren, teary eyed and the gaping, the burning feeling in your chest so immense that you can’t even fathom the words to say to him. So overwhelmed, so overstimulate from everything that you’ve heard - everything that you’ve felt - that you can barely keep your head on straight. The last song starts playing, which you can tell is entitled Fine Line from the credits line, as the words make the sobs wrack through you fully. 

We'll be a fine line We'll be a fine line We'll be alright We'll be alright We'll be a fine line We'll be a fine line We'll be alright (alright, alright, alright) 

You turn to him, his hands on your shoulders, as he reaches up to brush the tears off of your face. You can still feel yourself hiccuping in his touch, the look in his eyes so pained as he looks into your eyes. 

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry.” Eren whispers. 

“Eren. You- you fucking idiot. I’m going to kill you.” you whisper back, mustering your best glare as you frown at him. 

“That frown never stops being cute, you know? You have the horror appeal of a stuffed animal.” 

You shove him, in response, glaring at him as the burning in your chest slightly subsides. 

“Stop trying to lighten the mood. I’m ten different levels of mad at you right now.” 

“Okay. I’m going to say something crazy to you, but it’s just an idea, okay? We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to?” 

“What the fuck could be crazier than…oh, I told you that I didn’t care about you because I wanted to protect you? Or, oh, I sued a person who took everything away from me and instead of trying to get more money, I tried to get back the rights to your music. Or oh, THAT STUPID INTERVIEW I DID WAS FUCKING EDITED?” 

“Okay. Maybe it’s a little less crazy than that. But just hear me out okay?” 

“I can basically never hear that phrase the same from you again. The last time I didn’t hear you out, you were sitting on a butt load of fucking information. Like the fact that you took the fall for me when someone threatened my fucking family? Or oh, I was struggling for years on end but never once reached out to you or-” 

“Sweetheart. Just listen to me. Please.” 

You frown, crossing your arms as you look at him. 

“Everyone else is going to be on the press tour for another four days. And there are some people who want to see us….in Seattle.” 

“Seattle? Don’t tell me in some weird twisted way that you're friends with Hyla or something?” 

“Ew, no. Not Hyla. But your wife wistfully looks at the window everyday, wondering when you’re going to come home from war. And no I’m not being dramatic she makes that joke almost every day. And Sukuna said he has some choice words prepared for you that he’s been sitting on for a few years now. And, it’s also Teddy’s sixth birthday. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m kind of his favorite. And I know that he would like you too.” 

“You-” 

“It would just be for two days. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but the two of them. They really love you. They want to see you and…you have a lot to talk about. With both of them.” 

“Yeah. I-I want to see Lana. And Sukuna, they…. fuck, Eren. they went through so much. You- you went through so much. I’d like to see them and- Eren, I don’t know what to say but-” you respond, the tears warm as they spread down your eyes. 

“Don’t say anything yet. Sit on it for a little. I’ll pack our things, yeah?” he states, voice warm as he smiles at you. 

“Okay.” 

“One last thing, Y/N.” 

“Eren. You’re going to give me a heart attack.” 

He rolls his eyes, as he fishes through his pocket, and places a USB in your hand. You twist it over in your fingers as you look at it and give him a confused look. 

“The interview. Unedited. I-I meant what I said. You-you should be able to hear it. Those words are meant for you and you only.

You turn it over in your hands, preshing it flesh against your hand, as you and Eren step out of the townhouse into the snow and head towards the car for the airport. 

Hand in hand.

--

next part linked here

an: GUYS U CANT SIMP OVER SUKUNA ANYMORE HES A FATHER. LEAVE HIM ALONE I SWEAR TO GOD. that being said sukuna and lana appearances next chapter RAAAA. and as always, someone send me an ask for the valedictorian tracklist I HAVE IT LOCKED AND LOADED

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @mrksnctzen @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

[devondespresso]

FINALLY

after NINE. HOURS. (NOT including meals and sleep) ITS FUCKING DONE.

A complete floorplan of the entire Harrington house. Including too much thought about random, throw-away lines from characters and squint-to-see-it background glimpses inside.

plently of stuff in the actual house is altered or straight up ignored in favor of following the fiction logic and because I Wanted To. A lot of this is motivated by my headcanons for the Harringtons and how I'm writing them in my fic, but I'm also certainly not an architect so it's by no means perfect. It is, however, unreasonably canon compliant in the few bits we do see.

Thought Process (for context):

the darker shaded floor areas are lower than the rest, some bits like the garages having stairs and some areas like the sun and dining rooms list being like a step lower. Windows are marked with dashes along the outside, sliding doors are two thin lines slightly overlapping, stairs change color as they diverge from the level we're looking at, and furniture is eyeballed so don't look to closely a the scale.

not all closets are labeled, just the ones i figured could be confusing. Steve and the guest rooms have closets i promise.

the laundry room and pantry are not the same size but by the time i noticed i was exhausted. so pretend they're both more reasonably sized.

i don't know what the floorplan symbol for garage door is and then i forgot to look so the headlights point to where the doors are and you can see them clearly in photos so yeah.

The general layout is based on the idea that the Harringtons are or were into hosting dinner parties and business meetings in their home, especially as a young rich couple looking for respect in their circles (Mr. Harrington taking on his father's business and reinforcing that power, Mrs. Harrington climbing her own social ladder and building an image).

So the house is laid out with hosting areas towards the right with the office big and near the dining room because it's more than just a workplace, it represents him as a businessman. In canon the entryway and living room both have very high ceilings and no second-floor above them, so I'd imagine they're also aware of how the top floor looks from below, hence the fancy double/french doors to the master bedroom which is in plain view from below. Steve's room and the guest room are's nearly as visible.

As for the kitchen and sun/pool rooms, I see them more as secondary hosting areas that aren't used as the main location most of the time and are more this background setting to these events that still feel rich. The kitchen is massive and mostly for dinner-parties and Mrs. Harrington's social events.

The kitchen and main bathroom's placement is based on a line Steve said to Barb giving her directions to the bathroom: "down past the kitchen, to the left". With the massive living room on the left and wanting to keep the dining and office close by, i interpreted the "to the left" part being like "find the kitchen, then turn left". And with the rest of the area being open-concept, the bathroom would be the only normal door over there and easy to find. it's a bit of a stretch with just that line, but it makes sense to me with the rest of the context for the layout.

the basement is similar to this, though not as openly displayed so I imagine its for slightly closer friends. Theres a garage door down there so I figured Mr. Harrington might have a cool car he shows off, like he's letting people in on a personal detail about himself. There's also a guest room down there (the only one still considered 100% for guests, more on that later) for those people.

beside the basement garage, there was originally one main garage that holds two cars, obvious Mr. and Mrs. Harrington's cars. I imagine they bought the house before having kids, so a third one wasn't on the mind but after having Steve they added the front one (either turning the carport into a closed garage or they never had a carport and added a whole new addition, up to you)

Both garages lead to the same part of the house, and that area is the only one besides the water heater room that is purely function over effect. It still looks good like the rest of the house but it's not made to be fancy because guests would rarely need to be over there if at all and it's not noteworthy from other parts of the house.

In my headcanon, Steve's room used to be a guest room, staying his room from nursery to present with Mrs. Harrington renovating every now and then. Its one of those places in the house that doesn't have to look perfect for all to see, so she gets creative and has fun with it.

The upstairs guest room is also unofficially Mrs. Harrington's room, based on a line where Tommy mentions a fireplace in "his mom's room" instead of "guest room" or "parent's room" or "master bedroom". I belatedly realized this could be a solidarity thing with Steve hating his dad and calling the master bedroom his mom's room, but that was after 9 hours of this and im not changing it but there you go. In this version, I imagine she leaves the master some nights because her marriage with Mr. Harrington is failing (cheating and all, I wouldn't want to be in the same bed with someone who cheated either)

the master bathroom was an executive decision, just looking at the house in canon and not having enough space in my first attempts, i decided the triangle roof part above the dining and office could fit a master bathroom.

Feel free to use or reference this in your own fics! Feel free to block out my furniture or walls and make your own version. If you share my image please credit with an @ mention!! (again, 9 hours) (thank you fhalsfhd)

[bloatedandalone04]

Right Back to the Start

➪the one where luke wakes up to the abandoned city of detroit and doesn’t think twice about looking for the one person that always meant the most to him.

Warnings: spoilers for Vanishing on 7th Street, swearing, mentions of death ig, angst, fluff, smut, soft smut, sad events all around, loosely follows the plot of the film, mentions of injuries, unprotected sex heha, hair pulling, marking, pet names, semi-public sex (?)

Word Count: 4.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | HAPPY NEW YEARS EVE, BAES MWAH

The second Luke woke up he knew something was wrong. 

He wouldn’t say he felt it, per se, but he knew something was off. 

He had overslept and would probably be late for his segment on channel seven if he didn’t get up right now. Paige had kept him up for most of the night and seemed to have fled much earlier in the morning, leaving him to blow out the candles he so carelessly left lit during the night. 

Groaning quietly, Luke got up and stumbled his way into the bathroom of his new apartment. His hand quickly finds the lightswitch but when he tries to turn it on, nothing happens. The bathroom remained dark as he reached for his toothbrush and began brushing his teeth, making a mental note to ask Jesus, the front desk guy, about the lack of lighting. 

Using his freehand, he tried turning the TV on and found that it wasn’t working either. He scoffs around the toothbrush as he tosses the remote aside and barely avoids the puddle that had formed in the kitchen from the fridge being shut off. “What the fuck,” he muttered, grabbing the towel from off the stove handle and dropping it onto the puddle. “Seriously.”

After having to walk down twenty three flights of stairs, Luke was a bit more than annoyed as he tried to get his phone to work. 

“Piece of junk,” he concluded as he opened the stairwell door and stepped out into the lobby. “Yo, Jesus, what’s up with the-” he promptly stopped talking when he realized that Jesus was not sitting at the desk. The chair held his usual clothing, that being a suit, but there was no sign of the man.

Actually, Luke noticed that there was no sign of anyone in the lobby as he grabbed the newspaper from off the top of the desk. It only got worse when he went outside and saw various cars had crashed into curbs and stopped in the middle of the street, and the hundreds of clothing that were scattered around had him immediately on alert. 

When he saw that even his workplace was empty and came to the realization that Paige was among the sudden disappearances, he went back home and sprung into action. After nearly being taken over by darkness, Luke grabbed every flashlight he could find and his wedding band then left his apartment as his search began.

He spent three whole days trying to find any sign of life other than himself, and a car that actually worked. He took note of a truck that still had some battery life in it before he found a bar that was lit up as if it was still in business. 

Inside it he found a kid no older than twelve and soon the duo became a trio, and then a fourth person joined. It was almost overwhelming how many people Luke ended up running into after being completely on his own for seventy two hours straight. 

Luke also discovered that his patience was nowhere near as thick as it used to be as James, Rosemary and Paul were all getting on his last nerve. He had found Paul in a bus shelter barely conscious and he had to carry him all the way back to the bar, fucking up his ankle in the process. 

They both almost didn’t make it before Rosemary finally opened the door and let them inside. 

Now, as Paul was being nursed by her, Luke was left to tend to his sore ankle. “Am I in heaven?” The concussed man asked as he stared up at Rosemary. 

“Better,” Luke answered as he wrapped duct tape around his ankle. “A bar.”

A few hours passed and Paul was not getting any better, further delaying Luke’s plan of getting the fuck out of this part of the city and making him feel even more frustrated. “So, you’re all looking for someone, huh?” He asked as he leaned against the pool table, his words slurred and drawn out. 

James was the first to answer, “My momma,”

“My son,” Rosemary followed.

All three of them looked over at Luke and he knew he had to answer them without his usual level of sarcasm. He reached his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wedding band he regretfully took off a few months ago and held it in his palm. “I’m looking for my wife,” he said and they all looked at him as if they were surprised that a cocky, rude and selfish guy like himself could actually have a wife. So he added, “We’re separated, but it’s only recently. I fucked things up with her….and now I might never get the chance to make up for it.”

Rosemary took a step forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, a sad smile on her lips as he looked up at her. “You’ll see her again,” she promised and it brought the smallest bit of hope to him as he slipped the band onto his finger, where it should’ve stayed. 

Then the pathetic excuse of a generator began sputtering from its place in the basement, and luckily Paul knew what they needed to do before they were left in complete darkness. “Lessen the load,” he stated as he watched the lights flicker. “The powerload on the genny, we gotta lessen it. Turn off any light we don’t need.”

And Luke did just that, turning off everything except for the lights in the main area of the bar. They continue to flicker on and off for a few more seconds before staying on, making everyone let out a sigh of relief as the shadows fade away. “Good call,” he mumbled to Paul, who just waved him off and moved to lay down on the pool table. 

Then there were a few quiet knocks on the door, and everyone was immediately on high alert again. 

“Don’t answer it,” Luke said, ignoring the glare Rosemary gave him. Really, there wasn’t anyone on the other side of the door that could be more dangerous than the shadows, but he already had three people he had to deal with before he was able to return back to his original plan, and he didn’t need another person added to the list. But James didn’t care, and Luke was quickly beginning to notice that the kid does whatever he wants as he ran around the table and towards the door. “James, don’t.”

“It could be my mom,” he replied and didn’t wait for another word to be spoken before he pulled the door open. 

Luke rounded the table as well and was about to tug James away when he caught sight of who was on the other side of the door. His grip on the kids jacket loosened as his eyes landed on you, and he stumbled a few feet away. 

How was it possible that he had spent nearly seventy two hours looking for you, just to have you stumble upon the very bar he was seeking temporary shelter in? You looked scared and nervous and anxious, and Luke wanted to take you into his arms immediately. He was always good at providing you with comfort before, and he knew he could still do it now, he was just in shock.

“I-I’m sorry,” and there was your sweet voice that Luke hadn’t heard in months. “I saw the lights, and…”

Then you met his eyes, and Luke felt his eyes burn a bit. “Y/n,” he barely managed to say before your single flashlight fell from your grasp and hit the ground, breaking on impact. The darkness began to take over the doorway and before Luke could stop himself, he was moving forward and pulling you inside the bar. You stumble along with him and he steadies you by placing his hands on your waist. “Baby.” The name slipped from his lips before he could stop himself, but he didn’t care, and you didn’t either. 

As you braced yourself against his body, Luke caught sight of your left hand against his chest, and his eyes burned a bit more at the sight of your engagement ring and wedding band wrapped securely around your finger. “Luke,” you said his name in a breathless tone and he was powerless to stop himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

You kiss him back instantly and grab either side of his face as you press your body right up against his. “I thought I lost you,” he rasped in between kisses, his hands bunching up your shirt that looked an awful lot like one of the few he left with you back at the old house. 

You shake your head and lean into his touch when he brings a hand up to wipe away the tears you began to shed. “I thought I lost you,” 

Then you were kissing him again and pressing him against the edge of the pool table. Luke’s arms wrap tightly and protectively around you, and he pulls you flush up against his front, his mouth pressing desperate kisses to yours. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, paying no attention to the other three people in the bar. “I’m so fucking sorry.” 

You shake your head again and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Luke,” you weakly say his name as you slide your hand up and tangle it in his messy hair. 

He turns his head and kisses your wrist, his eyes narrowing on your left ring finger. “You still wear them,” he stated under his breath as he gently wrapped his hand around your wrist so he could examine the very ring and band he picked out for you.   

You tearfully laugh, using your free hand to push his hair away from his forehead. “So do you,” you observe his left hand, and the band you had picked out for him. “I never took mine off.”

Luke gives you a look of agony before he is kissing your temple and caressing the back of your head as if you were the most fragile thing he’s ever held in his arms. He supposed you were at this point since you could literally disappear at any given moment. “I should’ve never taken it off,” he regretfully informed you of his inability to cope without having you around. 

He resorted to distracting himself with his coworker in the new bed he didn’t share with you, and he wished he could take it all back. He wished he could go back to the time he left you behind and do it all again, but this time he’d do it right. He wouldn’t leave you, he would stay with you until you got sick of him and even then he wouldn’t leave. 

If he knew just how short his life with you would end up being, he would’ve never let you go. 

“What happened to your head?” You asked as you traced your thumb along the small cut on his forehead, but he just took your hand in his again and kissed along your neck.

“So….you’re his wife,” Rosemary stated what had to be obvious at this point, her hands placed on James’ shoulders as the three of them looked over at you and Luke. He kept you close to him by placing his hands on your lower back as he looked over at her. “I told you that you’d see her again.”

Yeah, a mere five minutes ago, he wanted to say but was too caught up in the feeling of having you in his arms again. “Sorry, this is probably quite the introduction,” you shyly say and Luke wondered how he went so long without hearing your sweet voice when it was all he wanted to hear right now. “I’m Y/n.”

“Rosemary,” she smiled at you, and everyone could tell how sad the atmosphere had gotten since Luke actually did end up finding you after all. Well, technically, you had found him, but the point still stands. 

He had you back, but James didn’t have his mom, and Rosemary didn’t have her son. 

You smiled your kind and genuine smile at her as you looked around the place, your body nuzzled against Luke’s. “So, what’s the plan?” 

After a bit more smalltalk, everyone came to the agreement that they would wait until morning - even with how quick the daylight seemed to come and go nowadays - before moving on, and keep an eye on the generator in the meantime. Luke gently took your hand in his as he guided you down the stairs, a flashlight in his freehand. “C’mon, baby,” he mumbled and you followed behind him, closing the door afterwards.

You and him were on first watch, and Luke was desperate to be alone with you at this point. “What are you wearing?” You ask with a quiet laugh as he leans against a beam and pulls your body closer to his. Your hands play with the abundance of flashlights that were attached to the strap on his chest before moving to tug on his jacket. “This is how you’ve been surviving?”

Luke shook his head and tore off the strap, tossing it aside without a care for its well-being. “I haven’t been surviving, baby,” he said as he gripped the sides of your face. “I’ve been looking for you. I spent the last three days looking for you.”

You bite down on your lip as tears gather in your eyes again. “Luke,” you trail off as he pulls your body right up against his own. 

You looked so pretty. Worn out and tired beyond belief, but still so achingly pretty. He wanted you, all of you, in all the ways he’s missed out on during your time apart, but he also knew you must be exhausted. 

He is, too, but he also couldn’t stand the thought of wasting his time sleeping when he could be spending the rest of his possibly short life with you, awake and conscious. “You should get some sleep, baby, you’re probably tired-”

But you just shook your head and leaned up to kiss him. He returned your kiss as soon as your lips met his, and his hands moved back to tangle in your hair. You were quite literally on borrowed time, and you both knew this, so when you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist, Luke caught you instantly.

He gripped the backs of your thighs as he slowly lowered his body to the floor. His knees hit the tough concrete a bit hard, but he could handle the pain if it meant he got to have you like this again. 

You straddled his lap as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on it in the way you used to - the way that never failed to drive him crazy. His fingers play with the zipper of your jacket for a few seconds before he finally pulls the fabric from your body, followed quickly by your (his) long sleeved shirt. 

Luke’s hands ran up your nearly bare back, and he was beginning to crave the feeling of your skin on his. You quickly make work of his jacket, and then his zip-up hoodie. “Jesus, Luke, you’re dressed for the winter,” you point out as your shaky fingers unbutton his dress shirt. 

He laughed, a genuine laugh, for the first time in months as you pushed the shirt from his body and dropped it onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His lips press to yours again, his hands running up and down your thighs and making goosebumps rise against the fabric of your jeans. “I missed you,” he confessed as he kissed along your jaw. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and tangle your fingers in his hair again as he lifts you up and lays you down on his shirt and hoodie. It wasn’t much, but it was more comfortable than the hard floor on its own. Really, comfort was the last thing on either of your minds. “Luke, please,” you begged as he sucked the skin of your neck, his fingers tugging at the zipper of your jeans. 

His bare and toned chest presses against yours as he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth before tangling with your own. “Missed you so fucking much,” he continued as he shoved your jeans down a bit and slipped his hand into the thin material of your panties.

Your body shudders a bit as his middle and index fingers swiped along your wet folds, and you moan quietly against his mouth. “Luke,” you whine, bucking up against his hand. “It’s been so long.”

Luke hummed, kissing you once more before he pulled away. “I know,” he rasped, slowly fucking his fingers into you. “I know, baby, and it’s all my fucking fault. I should’ve been there for you, for us. I promise, I’m never leaving your side, even if we don’t have a lot of time left together.”

Your eyes burned a bit as you lifted your hips in time with his hand. “I want you, Luke,” you gasp. “For months - I’ve wanted you for months.”

Luke blinked away a few tears of his own. “I’m not leaving you, Y/n,” he promised. “Never again. I love you, baby, I always will. No matter what happens.”

You moan as his thumb brushes against your clit, and you knew he was the only one who could make you feel like this; so good, loved and cherished all at once. “I love you,” you whisper back, tugging his mouth back to yours by grabbing onto his hair. “Please, Luke, I want you. I need you, I need to feel you.”

Keeping his mouth connected to yours, Luke pushes your jeans down the rest of the way, leaving you to kick them off along with your boots, as he unzips his own. “I need you, too,” he said under his breath, reaching down to run his tip up your seam. You both moan at the same time when he enters you, filling you up in one movement and fitting perfectly. 

“Oh, God,” you whimper as his hips hit yours. “Fuck, Luke.” 

“I love you,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours as your legs wrap around his waist. “I love you, I love you so fucking much.” He couldn’t stop telling you that he loved you if he tried. He went so long without you, wasted so much time trying to get Paige to make him feel the way only you could. 

You kissed him deeply as he began to thrust into you, slow and hard, the way he knew you liked. “I love you,” you say back, laughing quietly at the way his nose brushed yours every time he slipped back inside you. 

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist and he leaned down to kiss along the tops of your breasts. If he had his way, your bra would be discarded along with the other clothing, but to save the twelve year olds remaining innocence if he were to come down here and see you like this, he would have to deal with you keeping it on. 

“As soon as I realized what was happening, I started looking for you. I had to see you again, had to tell you that I was sorry and that I regretted not coming back to you,” he rambled, shutting his eyes tightly when he felt your walls squeeze him. “I couldn’t give up without knowing you were safe, without seeing you again.”

You moan quietly as you grip his shoulders. “Luke…”

“You’re everything to me, baby,” he swore, burying face against the side of your neck. “Everything.”

“Luke,” you whine as you kiss along his jaw before brushing your lips against the shell of his ear. “Please, fuck me. Make me forget. We can forget about everything, even if just for a while.”

His hips begin to hit yours harder after that, and you press his face close to your own by caressing the back of his head. You glance up at the ceiling lights and see them flicker a bit, almost taunting you with the fact that they could shut off completely at any given moment. 

Even the shadows around you were taunting as Luke pressed your body against the cold floor, but you didn’t care. 

In this moment you weren’t scared. 

You had managed to do the impossible; you had found your husband in a city that had been wiped out of any sign of life. You found each other, and you knew that if you were to be taken by the shadows, you wouldn’t be alone anymore. Luke would be with you. He is with you. And he wasn’t going anywhere this time.

“You feel so good, baby,” he brought you back to him with the single praise, and your face flushed a bit as you cling onto him. “So good.”

“Luke,” you moaned, tugging on his hair as you looked over at the shadows. “Harder. Please.”

Luke placed one hand on your hip and braced himself above you with the other one, his forearm pressing against the ground beside your head. “Look at me,” he murmured when he noticed that your head was turned and your eyes were fixated on the dark corner of the basement. When you glanced up at him, Luke pressed his forehead to yours. “Keep looking at me, baby. Not at them, at me. It’s you and me, Y/n. It’s us.” 

He successfully got your full attention back as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed open mouthed kisses to the skin of his shoulder. “Make me come, Luke,” you requested breathlessly, your brows scrunching together when he reached that sweet spot deep within you. “Fuck.”

Luke groaned deeply, rocking his hips into yours quicker. “Like this?” He asked, moving his body so his pelvis brushed against your clit with every thrust. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as you nod, clinging onto him with the energy you had left. “Yes,” you whispered.

He pulled back to get a good look at your face, his fucked out expression matching yours. “Get loud for me,” he softly demanded as he listened to your quiet moans. 

“I can’t,” you mumbled, gently digging your nails into his shoulders. “The others-”

“Can’t hear us,” he cut you off, pressing kiss after kiss to the side of your head. He could still faintly smell your sweet, wildflower conditioner you favorited when you and he were together, and the scent had his head feeling fuzzy. “They can’t hear us, sweet girl. That fucking generator drowns out any noise. They have no idea what we’re doing right now, so be loud for me, baby. Scream for me.”

You bite down harshly on your lip, but then moan loudly once he begins rubbing quick circles onto your clit. “Oh, my God,” you gasp, much louder than before. 

Luke smirked down at you, his tired features making your heart swell. “There’s my girl,” he mumbled, kissing you afterwards. “My good girl.” 

His words had your eyes rolling back and your body arching as you moaned his name loudly. 

As he watched your face scrunch up in pleasure, Luke felt the possessiveness he felt over you since the day he met you come back to him in full swing. “Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded, well aware that there weren’t many options left for guys that could steal you from him. Still, he hadn’t seen you in months, and he wanted to know that he is still it for you. That he always will be. “Tell me you’re still mine.”

You grin up at him, softly running your fingers through his hair that had become even more messy since you and he reunited. “I’m yours, Luke,” you say. “I always was.”

He grunted as you clenched tightly around him. “You’re close,” he commented, knowing your body and its signs like the back of his hand. You were his wife of four years, after all. You technically still are as neither of you could go through with the divorce process. 

“I’m close,” you confirmed what he already knew. “I’m gonna come.”

You squeezed him impossibly tighter and Luke circled your clit faster, desperate to get you there before he got off himself. “Come, baby,” he nearly begged, hiking your leg up higher around his waist. 

With a final cry of his name, you were coming around him and sucking him in deeper with each thrust. “Fuck, fuck,”

Luke felt your warmth surround him and knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Not with the way you were squeezing him or the way you were writhing under him. “Good girl,” he praised, kissing you quickly when he felt his own high take over his body. 

Your heel presses against his back, ensuring that a single drop of his release didn’t go to waste. He pulls away from your mouth and places small kisses to the slightly sweaty skin of your neck and shoulder, eliciting more quiet, broken moans from your swollen lips. 

When your tired gaze met his, Luke gave you a small, barely-there grin. “I love you,”

You smooth out his hair as you brush your lips against his. “I love you,” you say back then ask, “What is going to happen next?”

The fear and harsh reality came spiraling back, and Luke wrapped you up in his arms. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, holding you close to his chest. “But I’m not leaving your side, okay? I mean it, it’s you and me.”

What the world will be like after this, or how long you have with him are questions no one could answer, simply because there was no telling what becomes of you after being consumed by the darkness. Your soul gets taken, leaving behind only the clothes on your back, and it’s scary. 

But you weren’t alone anymore, and neither was he. Luke was okay now that he had you back where you always belonged, and he would be fine.

You smile up at him, glancing over at the still flickering lights as you nuzzle against his side. “Yeah,” you agree in a whisper. “You and me.”

[foolishlovers]

CO-WORKER AUs: Below you can find a list of Good Omens AUs in which Crowley and Aziraphale are co-workers. (oh my god they were co-workers)

[Requested by anon. You can request more fic recs here.]

Hit me with your ledger by KissMyAsthma (G, 1k) Corporate accountant Aziraphale has been infatuated with his coworker Crowley for a long time, but he has done nothing about it. One day, opportunity strikes and… Sometimes, an accidental nude is all it takes to score a date.

Get Down by AppleSeeds (T, 3k) When Aziraphale calls downstairs asking them to send up someone to fix the fax machine in his office, he doesn't expect them to send the most handsome and stylish man he's ever encountered in his entire life. Hopefully he won't end up doing anything foolish to embarrass himself.

The Piano Serpent by journeytogallifrey (T, 3k) Aziraphale owns The Flaming Sword, which is one of the premier gay bars in London. Everyone knows this… except for their pianist, Crowley. While the regulars take bets over whether he's the clueless straight person he seems, Aziraphale just tries to prevent himself from falling further. But one night Crowley plays a song written specially to honor their regulars, and Aziraphale can't hold the truth in any longer. How will Crowley react? Will the truth really set them free?

Hold the Lift by CemeteryAngel725 (T, 5k) Crowley just wants to get to work on time, but when he gets stuck in a lift with new guy Aziraphale, he ends up with a lot more than he bargained for. See, Aziraphale has this list of 36 questions…

!False (It's Funny Because It's True) by MirjamOmens (E, 6k) Aziraphale drew a long breath through his nose. Crowley, of course it had to be Crowley. The new guy in the sales department, who would promise potential customers just about anything to close a deal. Arrogant, annoying – and wildly, stupidly attractive. Aziraphale hated him. Aziraphale is a stellar software architect and a project manager, who is so done with the sales department selling unrealistically scheduled and budgeted projects. And he definitely doesn't have a crush on anyone, thank you very much.

Bang This Out? by crepesandoysters (E, 9k) As far as work friendships go, Aziraphale and Crowley have won the jackpot. They work well together and know how to make each other laugh, the whole metaphorical package. They could even be called best friends. Or, at least, they could be called that until today. Today comes with a kiss, and the kiss comes with more. A lot more if it were up to them. Except that their workplace seems to have other ideas.

Cock Tales by TawnyOwl95 (E, 12k) Crowley’s love life is on the rocks so he finally swears off men. Typical that his new job places him with a co-worker who's so straight up sexy. Or in which, Aziraphale tries to mix things up, Crowley is shaken and Anathema is a right stirrer. But could a relationship be worth a shot?

I'm Beginning to See the Light by ineffabildaddy (E, 15k) There was Crowley - the paragon of cool, the overlord of apathy, breezing easily through each and every one of their exchanges and giving no fucks while doing so; then there was the anachronistic, cloying Aziraphale, trying and failing not to live life like a Thomas Hardy protagonist, and giving many fucks indeed. Or: Aziraphale has quite the pash on his colleague Crowley, who seems resolutely disinterested in him. As their annual Christmas party progresses, it appears that Crowley may not be as disinterested as Aziraphale first thought.

House Style by soft_october (M, 24k) “Since that's all settled, the real question is did he give you his number?” Anathema laughed. “He was looking at you the way you look at lunch.” “Forget lunch!” Michael declared. “He was looking at you the way you were looking at him!” Aziraphale is content in his job as an editor at Celestial Publishing, though he could go for a bit less of doing his boss' job for him. But everything goes a bit screwy when the CEO brings in a consultant with plans to build a program that will turn the entire editorial department on its head. If only he wasn't so handsome.

All Lines Are Open by TawnyOwl95, FeralTuxedo (E, 21k) Anthony Crowley, bored host of a trite call-in radio show on Tadfield FM, has very few pleasures in life beyond annoying his long-suffering producer Aziraphale. When a caller reports suspicious activity at the abandoned Tadfield Manor, Crowley is determined to investigate, dragging Aziraphale along. Both of them are going to get more than they bargained for. A local radio AU

Heavenly Wicked Cafe by WaitingToBeBroken (T, 33k) There is a terribly rude barista that makes amazing coffee and a saint of a barista, whose coffee tastes vile. And they are in love.

i've found a way (a way to make you smile) by curtaincall (T, 40k) Crowley worked in Sales. He had never intended to work in Sales. It had just sort of happened. One moment, there he’d been, a newly minted university graduate off to change the world, exquisitely useless Philosophy degree in hand, and now here he was, having sauntered vaguely downwards into a Hell that consisted mainly of cold-calling new customers and sucking up to existing ones.   AU based on The Office.

First Class (Hons) Christmas, University of Tadfield. by heloluv (M, 41k) Dr. A.Z. Fell is a renowned literature tutor at the prestigious University of Tadfield. December is upon the University, and Dr. Fell is leading the Christmas Charity Drive. He needs volunteers. Dr. A.J. Crowley is a skilled plant ecologist who recently began his tenure at UoT. He can't stand Christmas, and nothing at all could ever possibly convince him to partake in "festivities". Until a certain literary expert catches his eye. A Christmas and New Years fic, in which Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year.

because thinking makes it so by summerofspock, NaroMoreau (E, 41k) It's supposed to be an exchange. An arrangement. Something to make them both feel better and less lonely. But Crowley's never had the brightest ideas.

Tadfield's Finest by angelsnuffbox (E, 51k) The sleepy town of Tadfield is thoroughly shaken by the arrival of DI Crowley. Where barely anything ever happened before, there is now a bustle of low grade criminal activity, and everyone knows where to point the blame. Gabriel thinks he's a bad omen for the town, many others are quick to agree. Meanwhile, Aziraphale from SOCO just thinks he's hot. Ridiculously so.

Golden Handcuffs by seekwill (E, 70k) Far from any city, near the Scottish coast, Tadfield College has a celebrated history, an unrivaled academic reputation, and two departments at war. When the Biology and English departments are forced to share a building, Senior Lecturer and botanist Anthony Crowley finds himself drawn into the orbit of the polite but strange English professor, Dr. Aziraphale Fell. As the new term begins, two academics navigate the politics of both their offices and academia, and try to solve the puzzle of one another.

Wild Hearts by foolishlovers (E, 124, WIP) In the idyllic English countryside, far from the hustle and bustle of the big city, two teachers at Willowbrook Hall set out to transform their students’ lives through the world of theatre. But for Mr. Crowley, the challenge of navigating his long hidden feelings and dear friendship with Mr. Fell may prove to be the greatest drama of all.

Sugar And Spice by SylWritesStuff, ladydragona (E, 179k, WIP) Queer technology giant Anthony J. Crowley is just about ready to throw in the towel after relationship after relationship has failed, but there's a new barista at the company coffee shop and he's cute and sweet and Crowley's never been able to resist blond hair and blue eyes. The tabloids will have a field day, they always do, but his assistant is getting married and a temp is needed. A temp who really isn't very good at making complicated coffees, has past experience in reception, and absolutely no idea that the latest complicated coffee order came from the owner himself. Aziraphale only knows that he's handsome, patient, and was the first person who told him he was doing well. How could he refuse the temp position? Or, he soon discovers, more.

[you can find more fic rec masterposts here]

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Hold You Close

Plot: A night out with the Greyhounds, a short-lived stint as head coach and a massive data leak bring on a full week for Y/n.

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: language, alcohol, sexual undertones (nude leak), slut-shaming

A/N: What do you get when you write a football fic with very little knowledge of football? This.

To be honest, this chapter feels more like filler and felt very awkward to write. But even if it’s a tiny step, every chapter moves the story along a little bit. Very much a Keeley and Jamie chapter, so enjoy!

——————

Winning suited Richmond.

A four-game win streak had brightened the halls of Nelson Road Stadium. The whole city was in the best mood it had been since the start of the season. Total Football, though it had taken time, was leading them to victory week after week.

After their fourth straight win, the Greyhounds proclaimed a club night. After months of declining, Y/n finally accepted their invitation to join. Going clubbing was…more than a little out of her comfort zone, but the boys weren’t going to take no for an answer. And truthfully, she wanted to celebrate their good fortune just as much as they did.

Sat in the VIP section of a London nightclub, the Greyhounds shouted to one another over the thumping bass. Colin and Y/n were sat in a corner, Colin entertaining her with a story from training the other day. When their glasses were emptied, they headed to the bar to get a refill.

“Okay, fine,” Y/n gestured to Colin’s bottle, “Gimme.”

Colin handed over his vodka, Y/n poured a bit into her empty glass and threw it back.

She grimaced, letting out a groan.

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Colin replied.

“No, it is,” Y/n screwed her eyes shut, “It really is.”

Y/n wasn’t buzzed, but she was certainly more relaxed than usual. It felt good to be out, to be amongst people she liked, to laugh. It made all the lingering anxiety in her head fall hush.

Colin was laughing at her alcohol tolerance just as a man who didn’t belong to their party came up to the bar. He stood beside Y/n and flashed an easy smile.

“You weren’t saving this space, were you?”

“No,” Y/n’s voice was strained, coughing from the vodka, “Go for it.”

The man flagged down the bartender, “Something strong, please. But,” he pointed to Y/n, “Not whatever she had.”

Feeling like she could see properly again, Y/n chuckled. “Smart choice.”

“I’m Paul,” the now-named stranger held out his hand.

She shook it, “Y/n.”

Colin stayed silent beside Y/n, smiling and sipping his drink.

“Are you here with friends?” Paul asked in a thick Irish accent.

“Uh, sort of,” Y/n glanced back the corner of the room the Greyhounds occupied, “After-hours work thing.”

“Ah,” Paul nodded and thankfully didn’t follow her gaze, “Don’t know how many people want to spend a Saturday night with their co-workers.”

Y/n shrugged, trying to give as little information as possible. “Bit of an unconventional workplace.”

“Okay, well, now you’ve got to tell me what you do,” Paul said plainly.

“Ha,” Y/n smiled, “If I do, I’ll never get rid of you. Trust me.”

“No, no,” Paul held up both hands, “You tell me, I get my drink, and then I leave with a useless fact about a stranger whose name I’ve already forgotten.”

Y/n laughed again. This particular club didn’t strike her as somewhere you’d meet a genuinely nice guy. It was a surprise, and if nothing else, it was pleasant conversation.

“You’re…” Paul decided to start guessing, “Personal assistant to some 5-star chef.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t have so many takeaway menus in my kitchen drawers,” Y/n replied, visions of Christmas dinner two months before flashing through her head.

“Ah,” Paul winced, strike one, “You’re…a dancer and you’re out with your company.”

Y/n scoffed, “I’m flattered, but no.”

Paul pressed a finger to his lips, twisting fully to face Y/n. It was the most polite way of checking someone out she’d seen.

He pointed towards her, “You’re-“

“There you are,” Jamie exclaimed, sliding up to Y/n, “Babe, I was looking for ya.”

Y/n’s mouth hung open, ready to reply to Paul but struck speechless by the interruption.

“Told ya, waiter could’ve brought us refills,” Jamie slid an arm around Y/n’s shoulders and tugged her into his side. “Didn’t have to do it yourself,” he finally took his eyes off Y/n and turned to Paul, “Good night, eh, lad?”

With nothing more than two sentences, Jamie had sent a clear message to Paul that his presence was not required, needed or wanted in the slightest.

“Yeah,” Paul nodded in defeat, “Good night. Hope the same for you,” he gave Y/n a thin smile, “Cheers.”

Y/n awkwardly held up a hand, waving him goodbye, before turning to Jamie. “And what was that?”

“Me savin’ ya,” he answered as if it were obvious. His eyes followed Paul across the room till he was satisfied by the distance. “These places are lousy with creeps.”

“But he wasn’t,” Y/n argued, though it wasn’t really an argument. She hadn’t felt one way or the other about Paul. “He was just nice.”

“I can vouch,” Colin made his presence known again, “Saw the whole thing.”

Details mattered very little to Jamie. The truth of it was, he wasn’t even sure why he had stopped the conversation. The moment he’d glanced over at Colin and Y/n’s spot on the couch and seen it was empty, he went on high alert. Colin could fuck off wherever he wanted, but not knowing where Y/n was unsettled him.

And seeing some guy, creep or no creep, chatting Y/n up and making her laugh felt wrong. Very wrong. So wrong.

“‘Course he was nice,” Jamie replied, “The good ones are always nice at first. That’s how they get ya.”

Y/n watched Jamie mansplain men to her, something she thought was impossible to do. Neither of them really realized his arm was still around her, effectively proclaiming to the club that she was off-limits.

“Well, congratulations,” Y/n took the glass Colin handed her, annoyed yet unable to stop from smirking, “You protected me from harmless small talk with the first person I’ve spoken to outside of work since I started with you clowns.”

Jamie could sense the sarcasm, he didn’t particularly care. The threat had been neutralized. He shrugged, “You’re welcome.”

—————————

A few days later, Y/n was sat at her breakfast table. She watched the busy street below out her window. There was a peace to the hustle and bustle of Richmond that differed from the rest of London. Everyone had a destination, but no one was really in a hurry to get there. It was one of the things that she liked most about living in the middle of it all.

A ‘ding’ from her phone redirected her attention. A Google and Twitter alert. There was a good chance it was pap photos coming out from the club’s night out. A bit late, but still possible.

Y/n held her breath as she reached for her phone. There weren’t a lot of flattering angles to have captured them at by the end of the evening. She tapped the screen to see it was…Keeley…who was trending.

“What…” Y/n mumbled, dropping her fork and typing in her passcode to search further.

Not pap photos. Worse. So much worse.

“What…” she breathed.

There’d been a massive leak of private photos and videos, mostly from celebrities. Among them was Keeley. A racy video of the former model from a few years ago was spreading like wildfire across the digital landscape.

“Oh my gosh,” Y/n whispered as she scrolled various reactions and unfortunate screenshots. She threw her phone down when clips began to fill her feed. The whole country was watching it. Talking about it. Laughing at it.

Y/n scarfed down the rest of her eggs, grabbed her keys and hurried out the door.

—————————

Keeley nearly didn’t answer the door. When the insistent banging didn’t stop, she caved and peeled herself off her bedroom floor. She peeked out the window to see one of the only people she felt like speaking to at the moment.

“I just saw,” Y/n blurted out as soon as Keeley opened the door, “I’m so sorry.”

Keeley exhaled, putting her hands over her face, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know what the fuck-“

“Hey, hey,” Y/n placed her hands on Keeley’s shoulders and guided her inside, “C’mon.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Keeley continued, barely registering that she was moving and that Y/n had shut the front door, “My family’s gonna see it. The team. Our clients!”

“I know,” Y/n replied, sitting them both down on the couch, “But the clients don’t matter right now.”

They did, terribly so, but Y/n wasn’t going to bring that up.

Raking her hands through her hair, Keeley stumbled for words. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m so fucking embarrassed.”

Y/n rubbed a hand over her boss’s arm, “I’m so sorry, Keeley.”

There was no way to fix any part of the awful situation, but Y/n, just by being there, made Keeley feel 1% better. It was better to hurt with someone than to do it alone. Jack had just left and the last thing Keeley wanted to be at the moment was by herself.

“You came all the way here because you saw?” Keeley asked, struck by the sentiment.

“Well,” Y/n shrugged, “Yeah.”

Since Amsterdam, Keeley had seen Y/n’s walls come down, or weaken at least. She hadn’t pushed too hard on the matter, she rather enjoyed the new Y/n. But this, this was entirely out of character.

Keeley threw her arms around her neck, grateful and in need of a hug.

A few months ago, Y/n would have shimmied out as soon as she could. But this wasn’t then, and she tightly wrapped her arms around Keeley, doing what little she could to comfort her.

“This is fucked up,” Y/n sighed.

“So fucked up,” Keeley whimpered, stuck somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

Y/n pulled back, still holding on, “We’re gonna get you through this. I promise.”

Keeley took a shaky breath, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/n smiled, “C’mon, KJPR. Dealing with shitty headlines is our superpower.”

Keeley managed a laugh before digging back into Y/n, the two of them locked in a heavyhearted embrace.

—————————

“No, Miss Jones has no comment on the data leak,” Y/n repeated into her phone, shutting down the fifth reporter of the morning, “Have a lovely day.”

Hanging up, she let her forehead hit her desk. It had been a full day since Keeley’s video hit the internet and she could only pray people lost interest and moved on soon. She had made Keeley promise not to answer any calls, instead forwarding the reporters to her. Most of them were men, but all of them were intrusive.

“A dick pic leaks on the internet,” she grumbled and dragged herself out of her chair, “And fuck all, but armies mobilize for a naked woman.”

Y/n grabbed her notebook and left her office, jogging down the staircase to go about her day as normally as she could.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted called, exiting his office just as she entered the hallway. A vaguely familiar child was walking beside him.

“Hey,” Y/n half-smiled.

“Haven’t gotten a chance to introduce you,” Ted put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, “This is my son, Henry. Henry, this is Y/n.”

Henry smiled up at Y/n, “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Y/n realized she’d seen him in a picture on Ted’s desk, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hey, listen,” Ted pointed towards the stairs, “I gotta talk to Rebecca, won’t be more than a half hour or so. Would you mind watchin’ Henry?”

“Uh…” Y/n sputtered, “I mean, sure, yeah, but don’t you have training?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ted quickly said, his mind was clearly somewhere else. He felt around his pockets and pulled out a small box. “Yeah, you know what? Y’all are gonna start training for me.”

While Henry’s face lit up, Y/n’s electrified with anxiety.

“Yeah,” Ted grinned, looking to his son, “There you go. You can go back home, tell all your friends you got to coach a football team. How ‘bout that?”

“Yeah,” Henry said with great enthusiasm.

“Uh, Ted,” Y/n waved a hand, “While Henry,” she smiled for his sake, “May be really good at coaching, I’m definitely not qualified.”

Ted waved a supportively dismissive hand back, “Ain’t nothin’ to it. Get ‘em started on warmups, I’ll be down before they really get goin’,” he handed Y/n the box, “Got this for Roy, but he ain’t gonna use it. You go on.”

With Henry looking up at her like she held the key to his happiness, Y/n didn’t have much of a choice.

“Alright,” she exhaled, feigning excitement, “Let’s go coach a football team.”

“Thanks,” Ted kneeled down to Henry, “Listen to what Y/n says, yeah?”

“Will do, Mr. Magoo,” Henry gave his dad a thumbs up.

Y/n’s eyes widened at the phrasing, there were two of them.

“Alright,” Y/n clapped her hands together as Ted left them on their own, “Let me go set this back in my office and we’ll head out, yeah?”

“Okay,” Henry nodded, following Y/n up the stairs, “So what do you do here?”

Y/n sighed, “Well, I help run the social media accounts. I help the boys with their interviews. Y’know how you see football or baseball players on commercials? I help those happen.”

“Wow,” Henry said as they got to Y/n’s office, “That sounds cool.”

Y/n slid her notebook onto her desk, and faced Henry, “Yeah, it kind of is.” Anywhere else, even she would admit her job was boring, but Richmond had changed that. “Let’s see what your dad gave me.”

Opening the tiny box revealed a plastic yellow whistle. Y/n chuckled, Roy definitely wouldn’t be using this.

“So why’d you come to England?” Henry continued to ask questions, “If you’re American.”

Omitting key details, Y/n slid the whistle around her neck. “I came over for school and loved it so much I just never left.”

“Do you ever miss America?” Henry stayed next to Y/n as they descended the stairs.

That was trickier to disguise. If Y/n was honest, she didn’t miss her home country. It was hard to miss the place all her worst memories had occurred. England had been a refuge before becoming her true home.

“Sometimes,” Y/n replied, guiding Henry down the hall, “I have a little sister who still lives there. I miss her all the time…” she smiled, “And Arby’s.”

Henry agreed just as they reached the doors that would take them outside.

“Alright,” Y/n pressed her hands to the door, “Now these guys are the best in the whole country, in my opinion, so we can’t go easy on them.”

“Got it,” Henry nodded.

“We’re gonna have to work them really hard,” Y/n added.

“I agree.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes, “You ready?”

Henry grinned, “Ready.”

Theatrically, Y/n threw the doors open and they marched down the tunnel.

The boys were stretching and conversing and had yet to notice their coaches were missing. Y/n and Henry headed over to the dugout, Y/n thanking her morning self for deciding on wearing sneakers.

“Do you have a favorite player?” She asked.

“Jamie Tartt,” Henry answered without hesitation, “The first time I visited, he signed my shirt.”

Y/n’s heart fluttered with warmth, “That was nice of him.”

“On my soccer team back home, I’m #9,” Henry continued, “Just like him.”

Y/n’s eyes scanned the group of Greyhounds, finding #9 laughing about something with Isaac. There were probably hundreds, thousands of kids who looked up to Jamie Tartt, but Henry’s admiration was something special.

“Well,” Y/n crossed her arms, “We’ll make sure Jamie has plenty to do.”

Clapping her hands to get the Greyhounds’ attention, Y/n and Henry stepped onto the pitch. “Alright, boys, here’s the deal. Coach has appointed me and Henry here,” she put her hands on Henry’s shoulders, “As your new coaches for the next thirty minutes.”

The team was understandably confused but amused once they saw Henry’s bright eyes. Training was to double as babysitting.

“Now, you’re dealing with one of America’s next top footballers,” Y/n jiggled Henry playfully, “And a woman whose life you all have made incredibly colorful, particularly last weekend…” she gave a thick grin. After their celebration at the club, many of the Greyhounds had needed to be poured into cabs. The task fell to the most sober of them, and Y/n had taken little joy in wrangling them into the backseats. “No one’s going easy on anyone today.”

The boys ‘oohed’ and laughed amongst themselves.

“Alright,” she shouted, “One lap,” Y/n gave a sharp blow on the whistle, “Let’s go!”

All credit to them, the team obeyed orders and set off around the edge of the pitch.

As he passed by, Jamie stopped to give Henry a fist bump.

“How ya been, lad?”

“Good,” Henry grinned, his spirits had lifted even higher the moment Jamie walked in his direction.

“Good,” Jamie stood to his full height to face Y/n, smirking, “Don’t get enough of this with Roy?”

With mere inches between their faces, Y/n blew the whistle smugly, “Fallin’ behind there, Tartt.”

Jamie set off with a smile and ran to catch up to his teammates. Y/n being on the pitch was a surprising, but welcome start to his day.

The boys were about halfway around the pitch when Y/n and Henry started forming their game plan.

“What should we have them do next?”

Henry thought a moment, “What about knee kicks? That’s my favorite exercise.”

“I like it,” Y/n walked across the grass to retrieve one of the balls, “But you better be ready to show them how it’s done.”

Henry’s entire face lit up, the glow radiating onto Y/n’s knowing she’d made it happen. She was going to make sure he went home with the best stories.

The Greyhounds came around the bend, well and warmed up.

“What next, Coach Y/n?” Dani asked enthusiastically.

“Now,” Y/n set the ball on the grass and kicked it to Henry, “You’re in the hands of Coach Lasso.”

Y/n stepped to the side to give Henry the spotlight. The boys all cheered him on as he came to join them, holding the ball under his arm.

“We’re gonna do a knee kick contest,” he said proudly, “We’ll see who can go the longest, and,” Henry scanned the group, “Jamie’ll go first.”

Jamie pressed his fingers to his puffed out chest, stepping forward, “I’m honored.”

Henry tossed him the ball, Jamie easily caught it. Y/n popped the whistle back in her mouth and it shrieked.

“Begin!”

Jamie bounced the ball from knee to knee, the team forming a ring around him to watch. They started cheering each time Jamie’s body made contact, Henry the loudest of them all. He kept it going about thirty seconds before losing it.

Y/n spared him a clap, purposefully holding back, “Not bad.”

Jamie frowned at her, the tips of his lips still curling up.

“Who’s next, Henry?” Y/n asked.

“Sam,” he answered.

Jamie launched the ball at his teammate, Sam caught it and they switched spots.

He lasted the same amount of time as Jamie, Isaac lasted twenty five seconds, Dani lasted forty, Colin lasted twenty eight.

“Alright,” Y/n clapped as Bumbercatch finished his turn, “I think it’s time you boys learned from a true professional.”

Henry stepped up, taking Y/n’s smile as his cue, and caught the ball from Bumbercatch. The boys chanted his name, surrounding him in gleeful anticipation.

Henry began to kick, feeding off the support of the Greyhounds. Y/n stepped back a few feet and pulled out her phone, snapping a few pictures for Ted.

Out of all the Premier League teams filled with cocky young men earning million dollar paychecks, Y/n couldn’t imagine there were many who would behave like the Greyhounds. They were jumping up and down, cheering and counting for Henry as he bounced the ball. It was all so genuine, and they didn’t even realize the extent of what they were doing. They were giving Henry memories he’d cherish forever.

Eventually, Henry kicked the ball for Sam to catch and the boys went wild. Jamie leaped into the air and started victoriously running with Henry, the rest of them following.

Y/n hit the whistle, “Well, I think we can all agree Henry’s the winner.”

The team agreed quite vocally.

“You haven’t gone yet,” Henry called.

“Oh,” Y/n shook her head, “I-“

“No, no, no,” Colin pointed to Y/n, “Boyo’s right. Everyone’s gotta give it a go.”

“That’s right,” Jamie clasped his hands together, “Fair’s fair, Coach.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, stepping onto the pitch to supportive hoots and hollers. Sam threw her the ball and she got into position, taking a deep breath. She’d never touched a football in her life.

Dropping the ball, she clumsily passed from one knee to the other. Henry and the Greyhounds cheered her on as they had each other. She lasted about ten seconds before she felt herself losing it and kicked it across the field. It didn’t make it to the goal, but even Y/n was impressed by how far it travelled.

The Greyhounds went wild, making a massive deal of her minimal accomplishment. A few of them punched her in the arm or high fived her.

“Alright,” Y/n laughed it off, “Henry, what’s next?”

“Corner kicks,” he said decisively, “Last one to grab the ball’s a rotten egg. Go!”

Henry took off before he’d finished speaking, the Greyhounds following. They spent the next ten minutes practicing corner kicks, once again, Henry and the boys insisting that Y/n took part. Pulling closer to the net than the pros, she was able to score a goal, resulting in wild cheers. Dani picked her up and spun her around and Jamie slung an arm around her neck the seconds she was back on the ground. When Henry scored, the Greyhounds lifted him up on their shoulders and ran him around the field.

When Ted gathered himself and headed back out to the pitch, he stopped short at the sight before him. His son, having the time of his life, surrounded by the team. And Y/n, facilitating it all, but enjoying every bit of it herself.

Ted smiled, deciding to watch as long as he could until someone spotted him.

—————————

Later in the day, Y/n drove to the KJPR offices. She hadn’t heard anything from Keeley and wanted to stay as close as she could to help in whatever way she could.

Y/n knocked at Keeley’s door and entered, “Hi.”

Keeley was sat at her desk, pouring over something on her laptop. Most likely, it had nothing to do with business. “Hi,” she mumbled.

“Looking at Twitter isn’t going to help anything,” Y/n sighed, entering the room.

Keeley didn’t look up from her screen, “It’s Facebook.”

Y/n scoffed, “That definitely won’t help anything.”

Keeley tore her eyes away, closing out the browser and turning to Y/n. “How bad’s it been?”

“Oh, Daily Mail were eager to talk,” Y/n fell into the chair opposite her boss, “Didn’t think that was the best avenue to go.”

Barely breathing a chuckle, Keeley ran her hands through her hair.

“I’m not letting anyone get close to you,” Y/n reassured, “And the good news is, the press’ll move on within a few days.”

Keeley glanced up with doubtful eyes.

Y/n regretted the words as soon as she’d said them, “Albeit, they’ll run with this all week. But still,” she reached over and held out her hand, “We’re gonna get through this.”

Keeley exhaled and took Y/n’s hand, squeezing like she was her lifeline.

A knock hit the door and they turned to see Barbara. Keeley did her best to appear as if all was well.

“Is now a good time, Ms. Jones?” Barbara asked, sparing Y/n a polite smile.

“Yes, of course,” Keeley answered perkily, “Yeah.”

Barbara came to stand beside Y/n’s chair, holding a single sheet of paper. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

Keeley looked like she was on the verge of tears, “Thank you, Barbara.”

“Um,” Barbara turned to Y/n, “Does someone have the press-“

Y/n held up a hand, “Got it covered.”

“Good,” she nodded, turning back to Keeley and handing her the sheet, “Jack asked me to give you this.”

“What is it?” Keeley asked.

“It’s a statement,” Barbara replied.

Keeley scanned the text before reading it aloud, “”Allow me to first offer my sincerest apologies,” her brows popped up, “”I deeply regret that video that some of you have seen online. I’m beyond embarrassed, and I never should have made this video in the first place.”

Y/n’s lips parted, even Barbara averted her gaze.

“‘I hope you can forgive me while I learn and grow,’” Keeley finished, looking up to Barbara confusedly.

“Jack thought you could post it across your socials,” Barbara said, “But maybe not Facebook, ‘cause that’s just for grandparents and racists now, isn’t it?”

In her despair, Keeley managed to give a gentle smile and Barbara didn’t miss it as her cue to excuse herself.

Y/n sat still at the desk, her mind flooding with rage. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that the “statement” had been written by a man. How could private property leak and somehow it could be turned around to be the victim’s fault? Worse, how could Jack be alright with it?

“Do you think,” Keeley stared at the letter, “I should put it out?”

In answering, Y/n wasn’t just giving business advice, she was wading into Jack and Keeley’s relationship, something that was entirely off limits. Clubbing with the boys was one thing, relationship talk was way too personal.

“I…” Y/n struggled, “I really don’t think it’s-“

“Please,” Keeley’s eyes snapped up to Y/n, “Don’t do that. I need your honest opinion,” she took a breath, “Do you think this is the right thing to do?”

Y/n had never seen Keeley be so firm, nor had anyone ever called her out on her hesitation. It was a snap back to the reality of the situation.

“Absolutely not,” she answered, speaking with total confidence, “This isn’t a statement, it’s shaming. You dare to do what most of these corporate fuckers do with their mistresses with someone you love, someones steals it from you, and it’s somehow your fault?” Y/n grimaced with rage, “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re the one who got screwed over, you’re the one who’s owed an apology. It is not the other way around.”

Y/n paused, trying to collect herself. “Keeley…please don’t put this out. For all women who have ever had something like this happen, just…please.”

Keeley nodded, as if it only confirmed what she was already thinking.

“Look, you and Jack are…you and Jack and you need to talk about this, but,” Y/n sighed, taking Keeley’s hand once more, “Don’t do it.”

The two of them sat in silence, Keeley eventually folding up the paper and rising from her seat.

“Is Rebecca in today?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered, “Probably expecting you.”

Keeley nodded as she grabbed her purse, “Tea?”

Y/n frowned as she gathered her purse, “I can’t. Ted’s got a presser.”

The women exited the office together, riding the elevator down without a single word spoken. When they reached the parking lot, they went their separate ways.

“Keeley,” Y/n called once she’d reached her car, “Do I need to…talk to Roy or anything? Make sure he doesn’t speak to the press?”

“No,” Keeley paused her keys in their slot. It was an uncomfortable topic, but PR didn’t care about comfort. “Not, uh…no, not Roy.”

Y/n waited to see if there was more to the answer. At least she was spared a deeply awkward conversation with Roy. The extent of their relationship was a mutual love of yelling at Jamie. She just prayed whichever ex of Keeley’s the video was meant for kept their mouth shut.

“Okay,” she decided not to push, “Hey,” she drew Keeley’s attention one last time, trying to keep her smile, “We’ve got this.”

Keeley gave a watery one back. If she didn’t have Jack’s support, she knew she had someone’s. “Yeah.”

—————————

It wasn’t often that there was so much work it warranted coming in on a Saturday. But a resort chain wanted Dani to do an endorsement for them and the only time their PR department could speak was the weekend. Plus, damage control for Keeley had taken up the lions share of Y/n’s week.

She was sat at her desk, returning an email and waiting for the phone to ring. It was kind of nice having the place to herself, but strange for Nelson Road to be completely silent. Usually from her office, Y/n could hear the sound of the boys conversing loudly down the stairs or Ted’s whistle on the pitch.

Her cell dinged, louder because of the quiet. Y/n picked it up to see it was a text from Jamie.

What you up to?

Y/n snapped a quick picture of her desk and fired it off.

Waiting for the call proved to be tedious as the man she was supposed to speak to was late. She began to scroll social media, her phone having alerted her to the fact that Ted was trending. She found that he and Beard had taken Henry to a West Ham match. A photo of the three of them was flooding the football community.

Where she might have resented Ted months ago, or anguished over the clean up she’d have to do, Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. There was a story to be told and she was sure she’d hear it on Monday. It also didn’t escape her that Beard had made a point of coming in full AFC Richmond attire.

“Damn right,” she said to herself.

Knock knock.

“Fucking hell,” Y/n exclaimed, her chair rolling back a few inches.

Jamie grinned, “Sorry.”

“No, no,” Y/n held her hand to her chest, “My heart needed to be reset.”

“What’re you doin’ here?” Jamie asked, shoving into the office.

“Dani’s got a deal with a resort,” she answered, rolling back to her desk, “This was the only day they could talk.”

Jamie nodded, wandering around the room. For all the time they spent together, he never had much of a reason to be in Y/n’s office.

Y/n got a good look at Jamie’s outfit, “And…what are we wearing?”

Jamie turned on his heel, looking down at himself. He saw nothing controversial about the vest, hoodie and joggers combo. “Fashion,” he answered, gesturing down his body.

“Right,” Y/n replied as she checked her inbox. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to his particular taste in clothing. “Where’ve you been today?”

“Eh, stopped by Keeley’s,” he answered, coming to sit down across the desk, “See how she was doin’.”

“Oh,” Y/n replied, glancing back at her computer before two loose pieces in her mind connected and stilled her. Why did Jamie have any reason to check in on Keeley if not…?

“How, uh,” Y/n stuttered, “How’s she doing?” She hadn’t spoken to Keeley yet, unsure as to how she’d handled the conversation with Jack.

Jamie shrugged, “She’s alright. I, eh…” he scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah, she’s okay.”

Y/n looked up and smiled, suddenly feeling like she was intruding on something deeply personal. “Good.”

By now, Jamie was a pro at reading her expressions. If not the intricacies, the general vibe. He pointed a finger, “What’s that face?”

“What face?” Y/n asked.

“That face,” Jamie moved a little closer in his chair, “Everything’s fine but it’s not, you make that face.”

Y/n attempted to shrug it off, wanting to shrug out of the entire situation. “Jamie, I’m fine. I’m glad Keeley’s okay, glad you went to check on her.”

Jamie watched carefully, trying to decode the layers of what she was saying and, more importantly, not saying. He retracted his finger into his fist when he guessed.

“Oh.”

Y/n’s eyes darted up from her laptop screen and back down.

“How’d you not know that?”

“Know what?”

A single laugh and Jamie smiled, “You’re a lot of things, but you ain’t dumb.”

Y/n grimaced, wishing she could disappear into thin air. Moments like these made her miss her boundaries. Isolated as they kept her, they had merit.

“I didn’t know you two…” she awkwardly pursed her lips and stared down at her keyboard.

“All that research,” Jamie smiled at her awkwardness, “Didn’t look into that bit?”

“It’s not my job to know who’s sleeping with who,��� Y/n replied quickly, hating how she’d phrased that.

Jamie hummed, “Kinda is.”

Public relations did involve handling all types of headlines. Personal and otherwise.

“Well, you didn’t tell me either,” Y/n retorted.

“I thought you knew,” Jamie enunciated with a laugh.

Y/n couldn’t place what changed, but knowing that her boss and the person who was effectively her closest friend had dated made her feel…uneasy. Knowing such an intimate video had been made for someone she knew, she felt like she’d seen some side of Keeley and Jamie not meant for her to ever know about.

“Right,” Y/n spread her hands over her desk, “Are there any more relationships, past, present or potential, in this club that I need to know about?”

Jamie thought a moment, deciding to exclude any and all locker room talk he’d been present for regarding Y/n. It had started the second she’d walked through the door, dying down and picking back up every once in a while.

“You’re safe,” Jamie replied, finding her discomfort cute.

Any further conversation was blissfully halted as Y/n’s desk phone rang. Finally. She moved to pick it up but was met with Jamie’s hand fending her off.

“Jamie, what-“

Jamie shushed her, nudging her hand away. He lifted the phone off its base and flopped back into his chair.

“Ms. Y/l/n’s office,” he greeted, his Mancunian accent disappearing to turn posh and nasally, “How may I help you?”

Y/n covered her mouth to silence her snort. She waved for the phone with her free hand.

“And she knows why you’re calling?” Jamie continued, sliding away from Y/n’s grasp. “Hold, please.”

He covered the microphone with his palm and smiled. Y/n’s annoyance was a poor mask over her joy.

“It’s for you,” he whispered.

Y/n shook her head and yanked the phone out of his grip. “Hey, Oscar,” she greeted, “Glad we could finally touch base.”

Jamie fell back in his seat, content to wait and watch her take the call. He was happy to stay and bother her as long as he could.

And Y/n would let him, without hesitation.

———————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

[colduncrustable]

the martin antis working so hard to make waves is so funny. like, you are very much allowed to like/dislike any character you please! but making it your whole personality or acting like you’re cooler for it is a little bit silly. you are not morally or intellectually superior for hating on a fiction character.

not to mention all of the characters in tma are very nuanced and complicated, just like real people (!), and erasing all of that to serve a certain narrative is a complete disservice to the entire body of work. jon and martin’s relationship was never meant to be easy, they first and foremost worked closely together as boss/employee, and in a workplace that was actively putting them in dangerous and horrible situations. the whole point is that they’re both super fucked up but they have each other anyway. they both have flaws, they both have gone through a great deal both with and without each other, but they found love anyway. the idea that the dynamic change in s5 is due to martin just being this villain is so wild? like he’s not a doormat anymore but he also loves jon so fiercely and stands by him over and over again?

jon hated him, jon ignored him, was verbally horrible to him again and again, literally sent him on a dangerous investigation and said if anyone had to die might as well be him, jon accused him of murder, screamed at him, jon was on the run, jon died. martin was his number one defender through everything, even when honestly? he didn’t do a lot to prove he deserved it. but martin was strong in his loyalty and did his best to be a supporter anyway. he picked up extra work, he thought of him kindly when no one else did, he mourned him, and he put himself directly in the line of fire for jon. for everyone, yes, but especially for jon, he says that. because after everything, protecting jon is still his number one priority.

it’s so important to his character that he isn’t s1 martin anymore—that he learns to be a real person who has thoughts and feelings and a backbone. jon wanted that, and does it not say something that they don’t work out until martin learns to have a little bite? there’s a difference between being a real complicated traumatized human person, and just straight up being evil, or an asshole. jon had to learn how to be a lot of softer things but martin had to learn how to square his shoulders and stick out his chin. they had different arcs, and that doesn’t make either of them inherently evil or bad. it makes them real and not perfect and very multilayered, yeah.

martin didn’t handle every choice or action perfectly, he made a lot of mistakes, and he never claims to be the best person ever. but jon also fucked up, a lot. it isn’t a competition or a comparison, that’s really not how that works. but they work because of their flaws. that’s a big part of them fitting together. martin represented the humanity they were saving, with all his good and bad. jon was well beyond that, and while that doesn’t inherently compromise his character, it does mean he’s viewed in a much different light.

(meaning i think jon’s sins are seen very very different to martin’s.) (to be clear i think both deserve to be looked at critically, but hating either of them devoutly seems sort of silly.)

i’m not sure how you can listen to tma and all the ways it dissects and reflects on humanity and turn around and run blogs or make posts in the fandom about how you hate one of the main characters for being all of that.

jon never would’ve made it through without martin, even if martin wasn’t the key to everything, he was the reason to push through and not give up. martin is why jon didn’t go full monster mode, why he held onto who he was and his humanity, even with the whole ‘kill bill’ thing. martin gave him a reason to keep going, to try, to care so deeply. obviously there were other factors but jon says it himself, martin you are my reason.

if you can’t handle the fact that martin isn’t a grade a soft boy by the end of the show that’s a lot more about you than it is about him. he grew and maybe not always for the better but he could be a real person for jon instead of some kind of mirror or blank slate to be reflected on. i genuinely don’t understand how he can be misunderstood so deeply.

they’re both fucked up ! and if they are alive Somewhere Else you bet your ass they’re having long talks and going to therapy and fighting and making up and pacing the floors and figuring it all out together. it isn’t clean or easy or necessarily enjoyable all the time, but humanity isn’t either, love isn’t either. they went through unimaginable trauma, and expecting either of them to be holding it together any better than they already are is wild. context, it’s important. but let’s not turn multi-dimensional characters into flat one word answers.

it’s very human to like and dislike, love and hate based off of bias and experiences and perspective. but also opinion does not make fact. everything is relative, everything is subjective, everything everything everything. it’s an open discussion yada yada idk i’m just screaming into the wall about all the nonsense.

and beyond all of that, discourse is so useless. criticism and constructive conversations are really really important but discourse is pointless! oh you ship these people? well that inherently threatens my ship! oh you like this character that i hate? well that makes me feel invalid for hating them. like what you like, hate what you hate, have your feelings. but if you post shit on the internet you will get people who disagree, sorry, that’s how it is. partaking in little arguments over who is right or wrong when it doesn’t actually have to do with anything harmful or unhealthy makes no sense though. posting on the internet about all the hate you have in your heart when the world is already so full of it doesn’t actually do anything but add more bad to an already very large pile of bad.

things can be discussions not arguments sometimes, i promise. it’s not always tooth and nail, and let’s not forget, most of it is over things that never need to be fought over.

[quietlyinlife]

The Marquis’s Obsession

summary; You are a victim to a crazy love

---

warnings; death, gore, stalking, obsession, murder, abduction, horror, violent themes, unhealthy behaviour, obsessive Vincent

word count; 6,253

***

You sighed in frustration as you typed away on the laptop. The company you are currently in has always been serious and busy as usual and it makes you wonder how much energy your new colleagues have while dealing with this new exchange program.

Following your CEO's alliance with another from Paris, he announced that there would be an exchange program between the companies.

The chosen employees will work in the CEO's company (the man your boss is allied with), while the CEO's employees will work in your boss's company. Each person is given a certain month on when you could leave to go back to the previous company you were in before.

And unfortunately for you, after 7 months, that is when you could leave. You had traveled to Paris from your home place because of this exchange program. You never liked this at all.

And what's even worse, many months ago? Somewhere in the middle of the month, you don't remember that, when you were adjusting to the new environment. You started to receive many gifts and romantic letters, which had a lot of French endearments. Of course, because you're currently living in France.

After hours in the office, it was finally time to go home. You quickly packed your things up and joined your friends outside the building. At least you weren't alone in this stupid exchange program you never wanted to be part of.

You spend your afternoon outside with your friends, strolling through the streets and visiting shops and other places. Chatting and buying snacks; you enjoy moments like this, forgetting all about your problems, including the whole secret admirer thing and just having a good time.

And when it was finally time to go home, due to how dark it was getting outside. You started to wait for your bus stop while scrolling through social media on your phone. A bit farther from the bus stop, you saw a familiar expensive SUV parked to the side. Your heart started to pound rapidly against your chest in fear as you felt your hands become sweaty and clammy. This is the same car you started to notice recently, either outside your house, at the workplace, or anywhere you go.

You start to wonder if you're the next target for human trafficking. You opened the messaging app and started to text one of your friends again like you always have about the car stalking you for these past few weeks. Just in case you disappear without a trace.

Finally, the bus arrives and you and the few people enter inside as you take your seat. Your troubled mind still rapidly thought about the car but it made you wonder why the person is not kidnapping you yet or maybe he is preparing to.

And what makes you even more sick is that you are aware you can't do anything about it. You're not sure if the police are willing to do anything and you can't just quit the job you worked hard for as well. Especially when it pays you well. You doubt that your boss even cares about you, considering how strict he is when it comes to business and working hard.

The bus stops and everyone including you leaves. You ran straight into the building and into the elevator. Pressing the elevator button, leading up to the 6th floor as you stood there inside. Catching your breath, it was only a matter of time before you were taken and silenced.

The door slides open and you stroll through the empty hallway. The sound of your heels echoes until you stop in front of your door to pull out your keys from your bag and unlock the door. Right before you were about to enter, your shoes collided with the objects on the floor; causing you to stumble for a bit but you still got inside the apartment you shared with your friend.

Nia who is also your roommate. She too had to come along to France with you. Such a shame she leaves earlier, around March or May.

Looking down, there were those expensive gifts all wrapped up inside a big white box with a pretty bow on top of it and roses next to them. You knew they were from that rich secret admirer as you gently shoved them inside with your hand before quickly shutting the door and locking it. 

Lifting the heavy elegant box and roses into your arms, you placed them on the dining table.

You were tired of these gifts, you don't know who sent them except the woman behind the receptionist’s desk. Who refused to tell you who it is and you noticed how scared she is whenever you confronted her about it, you're not sure if it's of you or the secret admirer. You didn't do anything to her so it's the creepy secret admirer.

Your room and the living room were littered with those expensive gifts that consisted of sparkly party dresses, high heels, high-quality makeup, and jewelry that looked so otherworldly due to how elegant and beautiful it was, and that probably cost billions of dollars. You didn't want too much so you gave half away to Nia who happily accepted them.

All tucked away inside their boxes. Romantic letters declare the admirer's love and that you will always be protected. You unwrap the box and discover many expensive rings, outfits, and hair care products. And a folded note too.

Your hand reaches to the note first, unfolding it.

To the most beautiful woman,

Mon amour, how are you? Do you like the gifts that I sent you?

Forgive me if this is too much for your liking but I can't help myself. I can't describe how much I love you with just simple little words, so I resorted to sending you many gifts that represent the love I have for you. And soon you'll feel the same for me one day. After I finished preparing for your arrival.

Your heart stopped beating as your eyes widened in shock, you continued to read the next line with a bad gut feeling.

Do be aware that you are not leaving me at all, watching over you through my men won't be enough to satisfy me. I will need to have you by my side physically, I have been patient for many months for you and now I will take what's mine. I do plan to marry you as well, I hope to get your opinions on how should our marriage be after you come home of course-

You didn't allow yourself to finish reading, you crumbled the paper and threw it inside the garbage. Sweat started to coat your skin as you struggled to maintain your heavy breathing; you glanced down at your shaky hands and clenched your fist to at least in some way stop shaking but it was hopeless. In an attempt to distract yourself, You started the process of wrapping the box back to the way it was before taking it in your arms again.

This is crazy, you thought as you set the box inside your room, in the corner. You sat down on your bed and started to email your boss through your phone, you were finally going to let your boss know despite the voice at the back of your head telling you it might not be a good idea. What if the stalker somehow finds out about it? What he will do? But you ignored those questions, insisting on letting your boss be aware of this dilemma. After you finish typing that letter– informing him about the scary situation you are in and that you are leaving France.

Your boss doesn't respond immediately but you know he will the next morning. So you took this time to quickly pack your belongings and stuff them inside your suitcase.

Your phone buzzed on the bed, thinking it was your boss; you picked your phone up and saw it was from your friend. Who suggested not to leave instantly, whoever is watching you might speed up the process and just kidnap you the moment you step a foot out of your building.

Frustration and hopelessness build within your chest as you plop down on your bed. Staring mindlessly at her text message, you knew that she was right as you responded with an okay before switching your phone off. You are dumb, but it is understandable considering you will need to get the hell out. Far away from the secret admirer and his men.

You gazed up at the blank ceiling, pondering what might the future bring and you hoped, you would still see the sun the next day.

***

On Saturday in the early morning, you got out of the building after making sure your apartment was alright and yourself too. You decided to take the offer from this guy at your workplace whose name is Allen to hang out. And also to keep your mind from constantly panicking each time you go out.

You received an email from your boss who wrote you a long paragraph on what you should do in this situation and told you to contact the police. Leaving instantly will cause the stalker to act instantly.

You feel flattered to discover that your boss cares and this causes you to feel guilt. After all, you never cared to learn about your boss. You hopped inside the bus and took a seat as the bus started to move again. Leaving you to your thoughts about yesterday's events and it made you wonder who it is.

You thought about all the men you encountered in your life but none of them ever showed any sort of interest in you considering they would disappear for a long time and you barely even interact with them or any guys in your life.

You also thought about Allen, he is a nice person who helps you with paperwork and goes far to pay for your drinks whenever you two encounter each other along the way to work. He even asks for your permission to hug you or slung his arms over your shoulders.

You liked how respectful he is towards you or anyone else he meets. The bus slowly comes to a stop and you see Allen waiting for you at the same stop you are about to get off of, his hand grasping onto the lilies he brought.

His face brightens when he sees you exiting the bus and in front of him. You tilted your head as you gave him a curious look at the lilies he had in his hands.

Allen snaps out from his trance, "Oh, I got this for you to have." He lifts the lilies to your face, avoiding your gaze with blood flooding his cheeks. You smiled at him despite Allen looking away. You took the lilies from his hands and inhaled their sweet fragrance.

"Thanks, Allen, they're beautiful!" You exclaim in happiness, he glances at you with a shy smile now adorned his face; nodding his head.

"So uh, should we go to a nice restaurant? Or to the park? Where do you want to go?" Allen questions, nearly stammering over his words but manages to complete his sentence. The two of you started to stroll through the streets while you wondered which place should you both go to.

"Let's go to a park, I don't know either." The corner of your lips forcefully lifts upwards in a small insincere smile, glancing up at Allen hesitantly before looking away.

"Yeah, that's fine by me." He nodded his head before peering at you, "How about we get some ice cream? It's all on me."

You gazed back at him with your brows furrowed, "Are you sure? I don't want you to waste your own money." Worry laced your tone, you didn't want to be the reason why he became broke.

"It's fine, I got a lot of money since I just saved up a lot. Only buy hair products, skincare, and food." He assures you, waving off your concerns.

"Oh okay." You said unsurely, nodding your head at him. You and Allen visit an ice cream parlor, you choose your type of ice cream and he does too. While you and Allen sat down on the empty chairs, waiting. You noticed in the corner of your eye, through the window, that same black expensive car with tinted windows right around the corner, securely parked.

You felt your heart jump from your chest as you quickly looked away to maintain your breathing and composure. Soon you and Allen both get the ice cream and the rest of the day was you being paranoid about the car stalking you, Allen being shy and hopelessly in love which made you feel bad since you don't harbor any romantic feelings for him.

By the end of the day, Allen offered to drop you off at home to which you agreed. During the entire car ride home, you and Allen kept on conversing until he started to bring up your sudden paranoia.

"Is everything alright? It's good to let it out sometimes." Allen glances over at you with concern before looking back at the road. The sun slowly sets, and you can see various colors showering through the sky. It makes you appreciate the beauty.

"Well, it's...Complicated." You answered with hesitation, you searched for the right words to describe the current situation, it was easy emailing to your boss but why did it become so hard to explain it in person?

"It's okay, I don't mind if you don't tell me everything. I'm just worried for you." Allen says, his brows pull downward together as he makes a left turn, avoiding the traffic ahead. "But I don't mind lending a hand if you need one."

You pressed your lips together in a thin line before finally speaking, "So, I'm being stalked...By this rich secret admirer who always sends me expensive gifts and love letters. The only one who knows about the secret admirer is the lady behind the receptionist’s desk. But she's too scared to tell me, thinking she's going to die if she says a word about the secret admirer."

You say each word carefully with no stutter. Your eyes gaze over at the side of his face. Noticing a frown evident on Allen's face.

"That's...." Allen was left speechless as silence filled the car, "But do you at least know something about this secret admirer?"

"I know he's rich and French too." You mumbled, looking out the window. "And, he's mysterious too."

"Do you have the love letters? Because I got an idea." The car finally comes to a stop, the building is in your view now as Allen parks the car.

You glanced over at him with curiosity, with a raised brow you asked. "Really? what's the idea?" You unbuckled yourself but stayed inside the car.

"I have a friend who can identify people by their handwriting." Allen says before getting out of the car, you followed along as well. Shutting the car door closed, Allen strolls over to you with a serious expression on his face. No sparkle of light can be seen within his eyes and it made you wonder if he is bothered by this secret admirer on a personal level.

The two of you sauntered into the building and inside the elevator as you pressed on the button. The door slowly slides closed, now it is only you and Allen.

"How long has this been happening?" He inquired, turning his head over to you. His brow furrows and the corner of his lips fall downwards. Sympathy can be seen swirling in his brown eyes. You started to think rapidly in search of how long it has been occurring but none. You didn't keep track of how long has these gifts and letters and the stalking been happening.

"Um, I think for a few months or more?" You replied with unsureness, staring at the blurry reflection of yourself through the elevator door. You felt flattered by Allen's concern and care for you despite you knowing the reason why behind it all.

Finally, the elevator door opens and the two of you stroll into the quiet and empty hallways. "You said that you have a friend who can identify people by their handwriting?" You repeated his words, mentioning his idea.

"Yeah, even if he's old. He's good at these kinds of stuff." You pulled out your keys from your handbag and unlocked your door, entering inside along with Allen. His eyes survey the small but elegant home, noticing the gifts tucked away in the corners.

"Sorry, I had so many, didn't know where to place them." You shrugged, apologizing for the unnecessary mess even though you were sure he wouldn't care about the house.

"You don't need to apologize, but do you have the letters?" Allen questions to which you immediately answer.

"Yes, it's here." You quickly hurried to the gifts and opened one of them, picking the letter in your hands before going back to Allen. He lifts his hand out to you and you place the letter, Allen folds the letter into a smaller piece and stuffs it inside the pocket, he lets a gentle smile crawl upwards onto his face.

"Don't be scared because I don't think this guy wants to see your dead body," Allen reassures you, you nod--aware of the secret admirer's intentions.

"Yeah, I was informed of his intentions from the beginning when I first got his letter. He mentioned many times that he would never hurt me."

Allen presses his lips together in deep thought, wondering what he should tell you but decides to let it go and says his goodbyes to you, leaving your home as you watch him. Hoping nothing goes wrong.

***

The sound of your phone ringing is what slowly woke you up from your slumber. Your eyes flutter open as you turn in your sleep, snuggling the side of your face deep into your pillow but the constant ringing from your phone causes you to lift your arm to your nightstand, your hand searches for the device for a few seconds until you felt your phone beneath your fingers.

The name of the caller of none other than Allen and it made you curious what made him call you around 4 am. You answered and placed the phone against your ear.

"Allen? What happened?" You groggily asked, your voice raspy and deep.

"Y/n, I am very sorry to call you around this time but I found out who your secret admirer is." His words held worry and fear on the other side of the call. This causes your brows to furrow.

"But listen to me, come all alone to this address, and don't tell anyone. I'll send it to you through messages because I don't want anyone to know if I say it aloud to you. I'm going to share with you some secrets regarding this admirer."

You wanted to protest considering how early this is but the urgency in his voice prevents you from voicing out.

"Oh okay, I'll meet you there." You softly say before the call ends, you slowly get up from the bed to get ready.

Surprisingly, the address Allen sent you wasn't that far. Just a 15-minute walk through the empty and eerily quiet street. You stood in front of the door, knocking but no one answered. This causes you to frown but remain patient, he's probably getting ready. You looked at your phone repeatedly to see if he messaged you but to no luck, he didn't.

This worries you because of how urgent he is when telling you to arrive at the address he sent out. But now, you're not sure if you went to the wrong house. While you waited and waited, your phone in your pocket vibrated as you took it out. Now seeing Allen's message,

Sorry for waking you up but this can wait until tomorrow because it turns out the identity of the person is incorrect.

Uncertainty and confusion fill your being, and your eyes narrow as you keep on reading over the message repeatedly to make sure you read it correctly. Something about this feels off, you can tell. There is no way Allen would bring you all the way here just to send you a message saying he is mistaken.

So, something must have happened. But still, you stared at the door and slightly moved your head down, your eye looking through the keyhole, noticing how dark inside the room is which is somewhat expected. But wouldn't Allen at least keep the lights on?

You took your eye away from the keyhole and decided to retreat. You quickly walk all the way home just to be safe and not get ambushed while terror and paranoia slowly creeps its way onto you. Not noticing a tiny note sticking out underneath the carpet of the front porch, that is written the word "Run".

When you arrived home, you didn't feel like going back to sleep. You simply took your coat and shoes off before plopping onto your couch, turning the TV on but turning the volume down. Not desiring to wake up Nia. You felt so confused about what just occurred, Allen wouldn't end it that way. You were sure he wouldn't just randomly call you and then message you it was just a mistake.

You are one hundred percent sure that it might be the secret admirer must have done this because first, the lady behind the front desk is terrified when you confront her, even when you enter the building; you see her wide eyes stare at you before looking down to avoid eye contact with you. And now Allen is scared too. What exactly happened behind that closed door is something you were sure you didn't want to have any knowledge about.

Time passes by as you either make drinks for yourself or sit on the couch and watch TV or scroll through social media. By the time the sun rises fully, you start to leave the house to go back to work.

During your time working, your mind kept on replaying Allen's words when he called you. And he didn't arrive to work today which is weird because Allen always comes to work. You prayed nothing went wrong with him when discovering who this stalker was.

When it is time to go home, you notice that there are no expensive cars following you today which is a huge relief because you didn't know when you'll end up having a whole breakdown. Your phone started ringing again and this time it was from Nia. You quickly answered and placed the phone between your ears,

"Y/n, oh my goodness you have to check the news. That Allen dude is dead." Nia says in a full panic tone, you felt fear clench your heart as you responded,

"What? How? I'm coming home." You ended the call, not sure how to even feel or react. But you felt fear, shocked, and surprised, even when you got inside the bus and entered your apartment. You dashed to the remote on the coffee table and turned the TV to the recent news.

The picture of Allen's dead body shocks you to your core. Despite the image being blurry due to how graphic it is you can tell by staring. His head looked like it got smashed, his brain splattered everywhere and his face nowhere to be seen. Intestines and other organs spurt out from his body and so much more. This crime occurred at the same address you went before.

You stared at the screen, aghast. You're not aware how long you sat there as the picture disappears and only the woman on the TV speaking, but her words become nothing but a muffled sound to you. The door unlocks and Nia strolls in after locking the door.

"This is so crazy! I never thought Allen would die like that!" Nia exclaims, cupping her face with both hands as she sits next to you. "And my colleagues kept on talking about it too when we were watching the news through our phones!"

You felt too numb and speechless to even reply to her. Allen was one of Nia's friends, he met you through her. Nia and the others were talking about Allen's death and you were there wondering about Allen's absence. How are you so oblivious?

You thought about the secret admirer, is he dangerous? Who else could it possibly be then?

During the entire day, you stayed home and Nia did so too. Both of you took time to recover by distracting yourself and conversing about the secret admirer. Both of you conclude that it is the secret admirer's doings. But none of you two knew what to do about it. So you and Nia stayed quiet about the murderer, you and Nia are aware of who is the killer.

It is around the evening when Nia goes outside and you take a nap in your room. But around midnight, you woke up to the sound of loud footsteps that didn't belong to Nia echoing in the living room. You quietly bolted out from the bed to lock your door and took your phone with you to the bathroom. You're not going to die by jumping off from your window when you live on the 6th floor.

You called the police while stuttering when telling them about the intruders in the house. Telling them the address you live in as you could hear the harsh kicking against your door. You are doomed for sure.

There is no space to hide because your room is small, hiding under your bed is obvious because that's where it is first checked. The door breaks open, causing you to flinch as you hold your breath. If you don't have any weapons, might as well use your phone. Your heart hammers against your chest, and sweat coats your entire body while you struggle to maintain your heavy breathing and your wobbly legs.

Clutching your phone tightly against your chest as the door knob to the bathroom shakes. The man shouts to others to which they reply, but you only hear your heart rapidly banging against your chest. You prayed intensely to god at this moment when the man started to let out a powerful kick to the door, near the door knob.

This is it, you thought to yourself as tears streamed down your face, weeping quietly to yourself before you remembered that you had a small pocket knife behind the cabinet. You immediately took it out before the door slammed down, the man made quick strides towards you and reached a hand out to grab you but you pierced his hand with the pocket knife and bolted out from the bathroom.

The man grunts before chasing you out of the room, you sprint through your home until a hand roughly grabs your arm and places a cloth on your face. You could only see darkness filling your vision and hear their muffled words as you passed out completely.

***

You woke up to the silver light against your eyelids which caused you to turn to your side and snuggled deeper under the thick and soft blanket. The sweet fragrance erupting from the bed is what caused your eyes to flutter open in confusion, you slowly lifted your head from the blanket to the most beautiful and elegant room. Your head turned to the closed glass doors of the balcony and everywhere in the large room. The room looked like it was made for a queen.

Reddish walls with expensive paintings, the softest large bed, and shiny floors. Including the sparkly crystal chandelier with small light bulbs. You know you are kidnapped as you lift yourself from the bed, your bare feet slip into the flats lying on the ground, near your bed. Your captor is generous enough to give you a gorgeous room after having you abducted.

You fixed your messy hair as you ambled towards the bathroom, by the appearance of rooms, you could tell it was all prepared. You started to do your business; brushing your teeth with a fresh new toothbrush and splashing your face with cold water before turning the faucet off. You left the bathroom and strolled towards the double doors of the balcony and attempted to open it to find a way to escape but failed, due to how tightly shut it is. You were still in your pajamas but you didn’t want to go out of the room all dressed like this so you took a short black dress and jeans before heading back into the bathroom to change.

After you come out all ready the door suddenly opens, causing you to turn around in surprise as a man peeks his head out.

"The marquis wishes to have you for breakfast." The man with the serious expression announces, his dark eyes intensely bearing into yours. "Follow me."

He leaves the door open before retreating his head back, you quickly leave the colossal room and follow the bodyguard behind through the gigantic hallways that consist of elegant statues, paintings, red carpets, elegant chandeliers with sparkly teardrop stones dangling, and many more. This is making you feel broke.

Finally, the two of you entered a colossal dining room with a large table filled with various foods that you can't name. At the head of the table, sitting on the elegant chair is the Marquis, you figure who lit up when he sees you. Standing up, he strolls towards you with a smile painted on his face.

"Ma chèrie, how was your sleep? I deeply apologize for the ruckus I created in your home." Marquis apologizes, his voice heavy with the accent as adoration and guilt fester within his captivating green eyes, "But do allow me to introduce myself, I am Vincent Bisset de Gramont. Also known as the Marquis. But you can call me Vincent."

You rapidly blinked at him, you've seen many handsome men in your life across the internet and other places but this man is paralyzing. He is the most gorgeous man you ever met face to face, his beauty is so bewitching that it could rival the Greek gods. And then you notice how tall this man is by the way he is towering over you.

You didn't realize that he took your hand into his and gently pulled you with him toward the dining table. Pulling out a chair for you as you stood there with hesitation before sitting down. With you and Vincent now seated, Vincent broke the silence.

"I am aware you have a lot of questions but do hold onto them and eat your breakfast. You must be quite hungry."

You glanced up at him with brows furrowed while he started to eat as if nothing had ever happened. Despite your hunger, you didn't lift your hand to the fork and start eating. You wanted answers first.

"Why am I here?" You inquired, your tone firm as you glared at him. Vincent didn't bother to look at you, only after he finished devouring his food is when he started to talk.

"Only after you eat, I will answer questions." With that, he started to go back to his food.

You decide to give in and start eating your breakfast, and one taste has you eating it all. It is delicious, you had to admit as you took a sip from your water. The maid comes and takes your and Vincent's empty plates away.

"How about we talk in your room? So it'll be easier to converse freely." Vincent stands up to which you do the same. His hand unexpectedly wrapped around your waist tightly, pulling you closer to him as the two of you sauntered through the halls. You immediately attempted to pull away but his hand remained locked on your waist, preventing you from distancing yourself away.

He just gives you a look before glancing away. "Tell me Ma belle, did you ever think I would let go off you easily?" Vincent asks, leaving you in confusion about what he means by that. Leaving the country or keeping your distance from him?

"Um no?" Your words come out in unsureness and confusion. Not knowing how to respond to that. He merely smiles as he opens the door for you, allowing you to enter first before he gets inside and shuts it. You turned around to face him.

Vincent ambles towards the closed doors of the balcony. Looking outside with both hands in his pockets. You stood there awkwardly before he finally spoke.

"Why I brought you here is simple, it's because I want you here. The world out there...Is cruel." He places his hand on the glass of the door, looking at his reflection through the glass door and at the same time outside.

You didn't say anything which made him continue.

"I am the one who had your little friend killed. Why? It's because he was about to expose me to you, and I didn't want that. I was aware that he plans to take you away from me as well once he tells you my identity." Vincent paused, "And, I tend to go a bit crazy. When someone attempts to take my love away from me."

He turns around to face you, a dark look cast across his face. "I was the one who sent you those gifts and had you followed everywhere to keep you safe."

"And that is when I came to know from one of my men about the friend you had been seeing."

"Why do I do this? It's because I love you. I always loved you even if you forgot about me."

This causes you to raise your brow,

 "What do you mean?" You inquired.

"Do you remember? Around 2 or 3 years ago, in New York, you went to a ballet show and I was there. Only after it ended we talked until it got late." He explains as you thought deeply, searching for a memory of you meeting Vincent but you only remember going to a ballet theater with your friends.

Not desiring to anger him you pressed your lips together, and he could tell that you don't remember him.

"I do remember, but I don't recall seeing you or talking to you." Judging by the way you are looking at him, realization doesn't hit you. 

Vincent takes a deep breath before continuing again,

"But I remember every last one of it. You stayed in my mind since then, and I didn't get the chance to ask for your name before you left. Everything about you captivated me, your smile, your eyes, your innocence, everything." Vincent's words held nothing but obsessiveness and adoration when he named each one about you. This terrifies you to your core as you stand there speechless.

Vincent takes quick strides towards you as you take a step back but his hand reaches out and grabs your arm. Pulling you close to his body, his strong cologne fills your nostrils as you hesitantly gaze up to his eyes and this makes you regret doing so. Madness and lust could be seen in his eyes.

"Tell me amour, do you have any idea how much I thought about you? Morning, afternoon, evening, night...How much I longed for you? Without you I feel incomplete, my world is nothing but darkness." He carefully explains as you hold your breath, you can't recall the last time you were this close to a man.

His hands cup your cheeks, bringing your face closer to his. Your eyes widened in shock as you grabbed onto his wrists but his grip on your face remained firm.

"But fate brought me to you again, at the Louvre." His tone transitions into a whisper, staring deeply into your eyes. "And I felt my world started brightening. And I start to feel complete with you in my life. You may not remember but I do, I went to your side and started to tell you about each painting. You listened to me with the most beautiful smile on your face."

Your bottom lip quivers, "L-let go off me. I want to go home."

He narrows his eyes at you, "You are home, you don't need to go back to a life with hardships. With me, I can solve everything--just let me handle it."

"You're just going to keep me locked up here." You shakily pointed out, aware of the fact he's never going to let you outside.

Vincent shakes his head gently, eyes glued to your face. "As long as you listen to me, you are free." He presses his forehead to yours, nuzzling his nose against yours with his eyes closed.

You were paralyzed when Vincent whispered.

"Wherever you go, I will always follow you."

"You are mine, only mine." With that said, your fate becomes sealed forever as his lips capture yours. And you realize that this is only the beginning of the horrifying reality.

***

A/n; Took me weeks, I decided to write for John wick.

feedbacks is always appreciated. <3

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Once upon a dream

Warning: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of cheating, mention of death, hurt comfort

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!reader, Tess Servopoulos x Fem!reader, Tess Servopoulos x Joel Miller

The only thing Emily ever wished for was a family, to be the mother she never had to two sons and a beautiful daughter always three children specifically.

Emily always had dreams of becoming a mother one day but it was never in her stack of cards so she shortly gave up the idea. Her dreams would always be just dreams not until she met Y/n, she was everything Emily had ever dreamed of in a spouse.

Only Y/n wasn’t hers

They had met at a local cafe after Emily had accidentally bumped right into her forgetting her coffee as she left in embarrassment. Y/n went straight after her with the drinks in hand never guessing she would end up at her brother’s workplace the bau.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Hotch asked confused Emily froze before turning around to face the woman. “You know each other?” She asked so unlike herself Penelope would’ve laughed Derek too “Aaron’s my older brother, you forgot your coffee” Y/n smiled.

Fast forward six years later

Emily going from blind date to hookup after hookup to get her mind off the now married woman who she still imagined a life with. Two sons and a beautiful daughter she told herself or even just one child would suffice maybe a cat if children wasn’t an option. She loved Y/n so violently it made her sick and everyone could see from a mile away- everyone besides Y/n although she loved Emily just as fiercely.

When Emily had “died” the other woman was inconsolable it damaged Aaron knowing he had a hand in this by not telling his sister the truth. Instead watching as the woman got married quickly to the first person who showed her simple kindness and their marriage seemed was almost out of convenience. Having met the woman while away trying to escape the life she once knew in Virginia moving to Boston and back again.

Y/n Hotchner became Y/n Servopoulos

Aaron couldn’t watch as his sister saw Emily for the first time once more after apparently being dead, how her hands trembled and eyes watered. The echo of her heels as she quickly left, Emily broke down that day one thing was certain nothing would ever be the same.

Y/n soon revealed she was pregnant with a little boy that shattered Emily’s entire world but she was happy for the woman. Though she couldn’t help but laugh when the baby was born looking just like his Uncle, to Emily Y/n was glowing and Tess well she was there.

Her son was named after an old friend Alex.

Theresa and Emily never got along always classed as competition in the other’s eye but they remained civil around Y/n never wanting to upset her. When Y/n was pregnant a second time Tess was around a whole less always giving Emily a chance to be by the pregnant woman’s side.

It was tough at first trying to win over the woman but Emily had her ways she would beg for Y/n’s forgiveness

A second boy named after his Uncle Aaron, Benjamin

Emily stood beside the woman until Ben turned two, Y/n and Tess were getting a divorce so Emily had the boys whenever she could. Tess had met someone while she was working away from home, some man named Joel from Texas. Joel Miller the same man who did the renovations on their holiday home who even had a daughter of his own.

It wouldn’t be until another year when a move would be made there was a routine the children had made that included Emily. You both would cook dinner- well you would cook and after spending time together you both would get the boys ready for bed and tuck them in. This night however as Ben snuggled into his pillow his little hand reached for Emily’s “stay mama” he yawned as the woman went to stand.

Tears spread on her waterline as she gazed down at him “of course my sweet boy” she smiled and once the kids were asleep you both retreated to the living room. Cuddling on the sofa watching some shitty reality tv show you gazed up at Emily “thank you” was whispered against her jaw. “What for?” She glanced down at you “for everything, for staying” soon enough your lips had met before you were on top straddling her.

Dreams slowly stopped being dreams another two years later when you and Emily had gotten married with just the team a few friends and your two sons as guests. Emily was over the moon to have a family to call her own, to have a reason to go home just knowing she was needed filled her with pride. Emily had gotten a taste of motherhood and she wanted more as you both laid bed post bliss she brought it up she wanted another child.

Two sons and a beautiful daughter

Her dreams were now reality as you welcomed Olivia into the world, Olivia Benson the Senior having to be the one to drive you to the hospital while Emily was away. She held your hand until your wife burst through the doors with the team behind her, you would birth a daughter who was the perfect mix of you both.

A little girl with Emily’s nose and eyes while she had your hair and mouth, Emily couldn’t help but pepper your face in kisses. “You did so well baby, I’m so proud of you” it made her think if she would ever be in this position if she hadn’t bumped into you that day.

Yes you were the bosses little sister but you had lead a similar life in a different town what if ran through her mind until she felt your cold hand on her cheek. She smiled brightly down at you as she leaned down to kiss you softly ignoring everyone in the room “thank you” she whispered.

“What for?” You chuckled tiredly with a dopey grin “our family” Emily held onto your free hand “I love you Y/n Prentiss” ignoring Hotch rolling his eyes fondly.

“I love you most Emily Prentiss”

Dreams do come true to those who wait Emily found.

[petalsscribbles]

1. negotiations

Yn can't help but note just how big and prestigious Jay's workplace looks as he stands in front of it. One can only guess just how many floors it has. Either way its overwhelming appearance does not help ease that strange almost foreboding feeling in his chest. He sighs and braces himself as he enters.

The receptionist is dressed as everyone would expect. Grey pencil skirt reaching just below her knees and a jacket to match. Rectangular glasses sit on her pointy nose as she types away with her perfectly manicured fingers.

"Hi, I'm Yn. I'm here to see Mr. Park." He says taming his shaking voice.

"Ah welcome!" She says with a practiced warm tone and a perfect smile. "I'll let you through. Mr. Park's office is on the 20th floor."

"Thank you." He answers and she bows her head slightly. Just as instructed, Yn passes the terminals and makes his way towards the elevators, pressing the right button once he's in. The ride is torturously long, or at least it feels like it. He can't help but wonder how much has Jay changed since he last saw him. He, Wonyoung and Yn used to hang out as kids, until Jay moved to America for his studies at 13 and he hasn't seen him since. Well, until now, but Yn figures they'll have plenty of time to catch up once they're married.

The walk from the elevator to Jay's office is short and a secretary with another practiced smile lets him in.

Jay's office is spacious, to say the least, perhaps way too big for a single person to work in.

"Yn, I'm glad you could make it." Jay says, getting up from his desk and walking over to his future husband. Yn can only let out a quiet hi.

Face wise he hasn't changed all that much, still very much the boy he knew. Body is a whole another story though. He towers over Yn and the suit he's wearing highlights his athletic figure.

Jay puts his hand on Yn's back and leads him to the chair infront of his desk, taking his place on the opposite side once Yn is comfortably seated.

"Thank you for making time for me." He starts "You must have been surprised."

"A little but it's okay." Yn admits.

"Okay, let's get to work. When it comes to engagement, I plan to propose to you on my grandfather's birthday party. There will be a lot of cameras already so it's convenient."

Convenient.

Yeah, that's what this is. That's what they are. Convenient.

"Now for the marriage itself. Do you want to move in with me, or should we get a new apartment?"

"A new one." Yn answers. Jay nods.

"Should we sleep in one bed or do you want a room on your own?"

"Let's share, in case someone visits."

"What about chores and cooking? Do you want me to hire someone or should we split?"

"I think we can manage our own apartment."

"I agree. We're not toddlers." Jay says and Yn chuckles slightly. "This is just my idea but, I think we should do skinship at home, so it doesn't seem forced when we're in public."

"Yeah, okay. We can do that." yn answers quickly, trying to hide his initial surprise.

"Are you fine with pet names?" Jay adds.

"Yeah, as long as it's nothing too cringy."

"Okay. Anything you'd like to add?"

Yn thinks for a second. There is a big part of marriage that they have not covered yet.

Intimacy.

"Are you going to find a mistress?"

"What?!" He exclaims, losing his composure as his eyes widen. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, I mean, I assume you probably won't have sex with me so..." Yn trails off. One of the most shocking parts of this whole ordeal is why Jay would marry a man.

"Why wouldn't I?" He asks after taking control of his voice again.

"Aren't you straight?"

"No I'm bisexual."

"Oh." He suddenly feels incredibly dumb. He went to college for Christ's sake of course he could make some discoveries about himself.

"Yn, I won't force you to have sex with me but if either of us had a lover and got caught by press we'd either have to: be branded as a cheater, admit that this is fake or try to convince everyone we have an open marriage. I don't think I have to explain to you why none of those options are good for us."

"Right, right."

"Well if that's all I won't waste any more of your time. But don't forget we can always make adjustments." Jay reminds. Yn just nods and gives him a small smile.

"I'll see you at the party."

a/n: updates probably won't be as frequent as it was with Bad Habits but I'll try my best not to give up on you my pookies

taglist CLOSED

@starchasing-cryptid @onementally-unstabel-kid @nootnootpinguuu @kkurbys @gnusihcom @silkentides @monstaxpuppy @bubblztaro @lavanderxamour @zzzavid

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[chaifootsteps]

I think there's an argument to be made in favor of showing the reality of what Angel deals with on the day to day, both on the gear he wears and the SA he faces from Val.

but these kinds of scenes can very easily be exploitative; used for cheap shock value & end up fetishizing that abuse by presenting it as titillating. it's long happened to female characters where the violence becomes an excuse to show them brutalized or with their clothes ripped off and given how often Angel is sexualized it can just as easily happen to him.

Addict managed to communicate a whole history of sexual abuse committed by Valentino with just a forced kiss and a hard cut to Angel having a breakdown in his room. The scene focused on Angel's emotional distress rather than the act itself, so it avoided objectifying him further and was still effective

this is part of a wider pattern already established by Helluva Boss, where abuse is treated in the least sensitive, most sledgehammer blunt and cartoony way possible.

going by HB, abusers are:

always obvious and easy to spot,

they're complete monsters devoid of any life or interests of their own,

they have no inner lives whatsoever because they only exist to hurt the victim (Stella stays around the house despite not liking Stolas, Crimson wants to force Moxxie into a gay marriage despite being homophobic - to the guy who put his son in prison in the first place!!) - they're inconsistent and unknowable,

they abuse their victim openly in front of others everyone goes along with and tacitly approves of it (Stella's friends happily laugh at her jokes disparaging a demon prince who could kill them all despite knowing he's in earshot)

they cannot be easily stopped even when they have far less power, either in magic or social standing, than the person they're abusing (Stolas and Stella, again)

they hang around long past when they should despite the cast having ample reason to proactively do something to stop them (everyone leaves Crimson alive despite killing all his minions, Stolas knows Stella has ordered a hit on him but probably still lets Octavia spend weekends with her??)

they are fundamentally Bad People. None of the 'good' characters can every be called out for being abusive, what they do is funny - because they are fundamentally Good People. It doesn't matter how many traits Stolas and Stella have in common, he is Good and she is Bad. It also doesn't matter that Stolas sexually coerced someone for a season and a half, neglected his daughter and abused his servants, and barely feels bad about his own infidelity. He is Good so anything he does can be excused. Same with Loona - beating people is bad, but it's OK for her to give her dad a black eye and beat his head in with a picture frame, because she's one of the Good Guys. Same with Blitzo demeaning Moxxie constantly in the workplace - it's funny when he calls Moxxie fat, it's abuse when Mammon does it to Fizz

Abusers are fundamentally Other from Us, and we never need to examine our own behaviors as long as we know we are fundamentally Good.

like how is any of this making the world a better place? or advancing the understanding of abuse? it's an embarassingly dated and in places actively harmful depiction of what abuse is or isn't (I don't even want to get into the bad takes I've seen surrounding Stol/tz and what coercion is or isn't, but you can probably add that to the list too)

if the Angel scenes are as brutal as they sound then the rating should be an 18. I don't entirely blame Viv for that, I know sometimes ratings boards have a weird habit of treating works that have LGBT content as somehow 'more adult' than movies with straight up rape and SA scenes in them (though HH is both, so idk how literal bondage gear didn't up the rating), but I hope against hope there's some kind of trigger warning for this somewhere, and it isn't just dropped on the viewer's lap in order to shock them further with the world's bluntest and most graphic animated scene of SA it can

This. All of this, every word.

[hongmingoo]

I'm Going to Paint Your Heart Yellow!

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x f!Reader

Warnings: Going Ranger au, kindergarten teacher reader, fluff, toxic relationship, grumpy reader, sunshine seokmin, tiny bit angst.

Word count: 5.3k+

Summary: When a grumpy teacher meets a sweet ranger, an unlikely pair. What will happen when one fall in love with the other? Will they find their mutual standing?

“I’m going to paint your hearts yellow. Going Yellow!”

You simply did not expect this. How could you? This scene is straight out of the cartoons you watched during childhood. Who would have thought that power rangers are actually real living people and their headquarters are next door to your workplace.

You watched, in utter confusion as the six-man team stood before the class of 4 year olds, introducing themselves ‘enthusiastically’ without a hint of embarrassment coloring their faces. Oh, actually one person does looked ashamed of what he’s doing and wishes the ground would swallow him whole. His eyes met yours and the tip of his ears burnt brighter red as he looked away immediately. The secondhand embarrassment you’re getting from this is unreal.

“Seokminieeeee~” a girl cheered. The man who’s hair is dark orange, wearing the uniform jacket with yellow detailing smiled sweetly and waved at her. Oh, he’s cute. You noted.

“That is not Seokminie. That is Going Yellow!” a boy argued.

“Its Seokminie!” the girl argued.

“Going Yellow!”

The banter is going back and forth, it’s going to become chaos soon. The rangers were trying to calm them but they made it worse because more kids started to join the fights. You stood up straight, cleared your throat loud enough for the kids to hear. Immediately, the children went silent.

“Kids, the rangers made their time to come see you today. Are you going to fight? Should I ask them to leave so you could fight instead?” you asked, voice firm.

“No…” they chorused.

“Is everyone going to behave now? So that Mr. Rangers can continue?” you asked again.

“Yes, teacher,” they answered in unison.

“Good. Thank you” you calmly stated, aware that all eyes are on you but decided to just be cool about it despite panicking on the inside.

“Oh, This is Miss Kim Y/n. She’s our new teacher. But ever since she came it has been a lot easier to control the kids because she’s very strict but very kind at the same time” the principal, Madam Lee introduced you. You gave a slight bow to the men and they returned the gesture with an awed smile.

The rest of the day went well. The kids enjoyed the time they spent with the rangers and they seemed to share the same sentiment too. They went back to their office after lunch and the daycare quiet down since most of the kids had gone home with their family. It’s almost 7pm and one kid still hasn’t gone home yet. And you’re left alone with her after Madam Lee went home.

“Soojin-ah. Do you usually go home this late?” you asked as you began to pack up your things. The little girl who was coloring her book looked up at you and nodded.

“Usually, Madam Lee accompanies me because Seokminie gets off work at 8pm. Or sometimes it’s Teacher Seo who stayed behind. But there are days when mom came to pick me up earlier too. But now mom is on a business trip” she explained cutely, her hands flailing everywhere as if to emphasise her story.

“Seokminie?” you asked, sure that you heard that name before.

“My uncle. He is Going Yellow. He worked next door” she cheered. You smiled at her cuteness so you bend down to pat her head. You took a seat next to her to see her coloring book and was genuinely impressed to see it was so neat and tidy. Usually kids her age have a very messy art style.

“So today, I'll be the one to accompany you. Is that okay with you?”

“Okay!! But I’m super hungry right now hehe” she giggled cutely. You noticed she has the same smile as her uncle, it was very bright and innocent that they’re able to melt anyone’s misery right away.

“Oh no… That’s bad but I don’t have any food on me right now. Should we go to the convenience store nearby? It will be my treat. But we’ll have to let your uncle know first, in case he comes here to search for you” you suggested after you rummaged through your bag for any snack you could find.

“Is that really okay?” the girl asked again, she was very polite for her age, you could not help falling for her even more.

“Of course. But it will be our secret only okay?” you chuckled, holding out your pinky for her to hold. She beamed, immediately jumping to her feet to lock her tiny pinky with yours. You helped her to pack her things before locking up the school to head to the Ranger Headquarters next door, hand-in-hand with Soojin.

“Annyeonghasaeyoooo~” the little girl announced as soon as they stepped into the cold office. There was the pink ranger from earlier and he immediately beamed upon seeing the little girl.

“Aigoo, it's Soojinnie. Are you looking for Seokmin?” he asked, kneeling to be on the same eye-level as her. He gave you a polite nod and a smile, acknowledging your presence next to her.

“Eung. Is he here, Hao-samchon? I want to ask him if I can go to the convenience store with my teacher because I’m hungry” she pouted.

“Aigoo, why are you going to the convenience store if you’re hungry? Stay here, I’m cooking dinner right now” another voice piped in from behind you, startling you. The figure appeared, stopping next to the pink ranger, grinning at the girl before turning to look at you. He’s wearing the same jacket as ‘Hao’ as Soojin mentioned but you haven’t seen him before. He is super tall, towering over your frame, with long hair framing his attractive face with a box of groceries in his arms.

“Soojinnie? You’re here?” Seokmin’s voice called from behind you yet again. You both turned to look at him who also had a box of groceries in his arms.

“Seokminieeeee. I’m hungry. I wanna go to the convenience store with my teacher. May I?” she asked, giving him her cutest puppy eyes. Seokmin turned to look at you for confirmation and you nodded.

“I can even leave my things here if you’re wary of me,” you stated. He immediately looked guilty because his eyes went wide as saucers.

“No! It’s not that! Of course I trust you. You’re hired by her school after all” he panicked.

“Just eat here. We’re having dinner” the taller guy said.

“But I’m suuuuuupeeerrr hungryyyyy noooowwww” Soojin whined, enhancing her pout even more.

“How about we go buy some snacks first while you’re cooking then I’ll send her back here for dinner” you suggested.

“You’re staying for dinner too” all the other four stated in unison and you’re left speechless.

“Are you okay just going alone with your teacher? Because I need to go cook. What do Soojinnie want to eat?” Seokmin asked her niece.

“I’ll behave. I want to eat tteokbokki please?” she asked nicely. You almost coo, but held yourself back when the uncle coos at his niece first. He nodded, and let you take his niece away as the both of you trotted to the nearby Family Mart.

“I’ll introduce you again. We have 2 teams. Each teams consists of 6 people and there’s 2 doctors. This is my teammates in Division 1. Our leader, Red is Lee Chan, he’s the youngest by the way. White is Hong Jisoo, Blue is Choi Seungcheol, Pink Xu Minghao, Black Jeon Wonwoo and Yellow is me, Lee Seokmin. For Division 2, Red is Boo Seungkwan, Blue is Chwe Hansol, White is Yoon Jeonghan, Black is Kwon Soonyoung, Yellow is Wen Junhui and Pink is Kim Mingyu. This is our founder Dr. Woo or his real name, Lee Jihoon and his assistant, Hong Yeseung, Wonwoo’s girlfriend. Did you get it?” Seokmin explained as if he’s shooting a rapping bullet through your brain at dinner and you blinked nervously, not getting anything at all.

“She obviously doesn’t get anything with that kind of explanation” Dr. Woo commented.

“It’s okay. Let’s take time to get to know each other. We’re neighbours after all. We’ll see each other a lot” Chan nodded in assurance.

“Aigoo, look at you trying to be the leader” Seungkwan sassed. The rest of the team laughed at their banter and you chuckled, feeling strangely at ease with the lively bunch.

“What’s your name? Seokmin only tell you ours. But not yours. What should we call you?” the sole female, Yeseung asked kindly.

“Y/n. My name is Kim Y/n,” you replied.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n” she chuckled.

It actually doesn’t take long at all to get along really well with them all, considering your nightly routine to drop Soojin at the rangers’ office and staying over a bit to chat with Yeseung while babysitting the girl as she wait for her uncle to finish work. Your work hours are supposed to end at 6pm and it was supposed to be rotational to stay with other teachers but you offered to stay back with her everyday because the other teachers has their own family to tend to, and you’re the only single teacher plus you have a tiny weeny crush on the girl’s uncle but of course you weren’t going to admit that. It’s funny how hard you were trying to hide that but some of them already seemed to notice your crush on the yellow ranger, well except the man himself of course.

It was children day’s celebration, the school decided to work together with the rangers to organize a mini picnic day for the children. The event will be held at the Rangers’ training grounds because their spaces are bigger and can fit more people. Parents are invited to join the picnic but since it was held on a working day, not many could attend.

You were helping around when you noticed the red rangers bicker with each other which color of mats suits the theme the best. Hansol, the blue ranger from Division 2 was standing in between the both of them with a blank expression plastered across his face. In his hands, he was holding red and blue mats as he waited for them to decide which one he should lay on the grass for guests to sit on. You sigh, reaching for yellow mats silently and began laying them on the grass, leaving a bit space in between so that it will be easier to walk around. Hansol noticed what you were doing, and promptly leaving the two to help you lay more yellow mats in silence. He was slow on his actions but you didn’t mind because he was still helping nonetheless.

“We’re using yellow?” Seokmin’s voice was heard behind you, very loud and excited and you had to hold yourself from screaming in shock at his sudden appearance.

“Yellow? I thought we’re using red?!” Seungkwan questioned, looking shocked at how many mats you and Hansol had placed around the venue.

“We’ll be having this picnic next week if I let Hansol wait for your decision on which color to use. Plus, I’m hungry already” you stated, unamused. Seokmin snorted while Seungkwan scoffed at your audacity but he didn’t say anything and just gifted you with his bombastic side eye which you’d get on a daily basis already.

“You did’t have breakfast today?” Seokmin asked, ever the gentlest one– looking at you with his doe eyes. It was so hard to maintain a blank face when you just want to coo at his cuteness but, you’re a cool lady, so a facade is a must.

“I overslept and rushed here without my morning drip” you grunted a bit and he just chuckled at your respond.

“Come with me, there’s some of the meat that’s already cooked. You can eat that first. Jisoo made some coffee too,” he beamed, grasping your sleeve covered wrist and tugging you gently to follow him to the grill. You had to fight the blush that is trying to creep up your face at that intimate gesture but it certainly doesn’t help when you see the knowing looks your friends sent you. Mingyu was holding back his snicker by flaring his nose as he grilled the meat, Yeseung was hiding her grin behind the paper cup that she had been sipping on for the past 15 minutes. Meanwhile, Yoon Jeonghan doesn’t even bother to hide his smirk while his evil twin is beaming at you with his ‘angelic’ smile.

“Do you prefer beef or samgyeopsal?” Seokmin asked, letting go of your wrist only to pull a paper bowl to fill your food as he stared at you with those innocent eyes again.

“Beef” you mumbled and Jeonghan who was grilling the beef quickly placed some in the bowl as he giggled evilly, his eyebrows going crazy as he looked at you. You moved back to stand slightly behind Seokmin as you glared at him, mouthed ‘be quiet’ but the older guy only laughed more, happy to tease you. Seokmin was puzzled, to see his friend acting like that so he turned back to look at you, but you had your blank face on again.

“Why are you so happy?” he questioned innocently.

“Ah, no. I’m so happy that Teacher Y/n wants to eat my cooking~” he laughed evilly with his signature deep giggles.

“Of course she'd want to eat your cooking, you're the best at grilling beef!” Seokmin beamed and you almost threw away the bowl and kissed him stupid.

The picnic started soon after, parents and students filling up the venue, talking and playing with each other. You were just sitting by the coffee counter with Jisoo and Yeseung when a familiar child came running to you.

“Teacher! Come eat with me and my family. Mommy and granny want to meet you,” she beamed up at you while pointing towards where her family is seated. They were easy to spot, as there was a head of dark orange amongst the dark hair.

“Go ahead and join your family” Jisoo mused, his eyes gone as he beamed while his sister nodded along. Sometimes you didn't know if they were teasing you or genuinely happy for you but you had to remind yourself that the Hongs are the most mischievous among the bunch (plus Yoon Jeonghan) so you have to be careful not to be pulled away by them.

You let Soojin guide you to her family, her mother and grandma greeted you with a warm welcome and the man you've been crushing on silently is smiling so brightly it's almost blinding.

“You seemed awfully happy today. Did something good happen, Seokmin? Grandma Lee asked her youngest son.

“Jiwon is back from Canada. And she's coming today, I'm waiting for her right now. Hehe” he answered with a sheepish smile. You could see his sister and mother glancing at each other in concern before turning to look at their youngest again.

“Jiwon? Didn't you two break up already?” His sister asked.

“We did. But Jiwon texted me last week to fix our relationship. So, I agreed”

The atmosphere is tense and you could hear your ears ringing from the knowledge of Seokmin having a girlfriend and you might have been rejected before you even got the chance to confess.

Not longer than 15 minutes after that, Seokmin got up from his sitting position to fetch someone at the gate of the headquarters. He came back, a few minutes later with a woman probably in the same age range as you guys– hand in hand.

The girl took a seat next to you, who had Soojin resting on your lap. She eyed you suspiciously before turning to her boyfriend.

“Who's this? I haven't seen her before?” She questioned.

“Ah, this is Y/n, Soojin’s teacher. She's a close friend now considering she's always there to accompany Soojin while I get off work. Y/n, this is my girlfriend, Jiwon” Seokmin explained, the bright smile never leaving his handsome face.

“Hello, Jiwon,'' you greeted politely, only to receive a frown and half-hearted nod in response. You were quite taken aback by this behavior until you saw Seokmin's sister rolled her eyes in annoyance but didn't say anything else whilst mother only smiled at the new girl.

Jiwon is a brat, you noted.

For the whole day, the girl next to you has been clinging to her boyfriend as if to show off to you that he belongs to her and hers only. You got tired of it eventually and excused yourself to go back to your friends.

“How was it? Their family is nice, right?” Yeseung asked, when she noticed you're back– handing you a cup of iced coffee to soothe your thirst.

“Yeah. But someone isn't”

“Who?”

“Jiwon”

“That bitch came back?” Yeseung questioned, her eyes blazing now.

“You knew her?”

“Well yeah, I punched her in the face once because she was trying to take advantage of my Wonu,” she muttered and you gasped.

“What?! Holy hell, you punched her? What did she do?”

“Well… She sprained her ankle and I asked Wonu to help her because Seokmin wasn't around. And then, she started flirting with him suddenly, when Seokmin came back, she accused Wonu of trying to harass her. Yeah, and I did that”

“Damn… Did Seokmin get mad?” You inquired.

“He did. He was upset with me for hurting his girlfriend but he knew I wouldn't lie and Wonu wouldn't do that to her. So, yeah, he apologized the next day,” Yeseung sighed. You looked back at the couple who were laughing together and sigh.

The days after that passed by normally, you still stayed late to accompany Soojin as you always do, talking and joking around with the rangers including Seokmin occasionally. It was really a big change for you. Truthfully, when you learned that your crush has someone else you'd immediately cut things off with them and run away.

But you found yourself unable to do that to the Yellow Ranger. Not when you see how happy he is to be telling you how his days went by, how happy he looked when he said his girlfriend likes his cooking and how cheerful he is after she came back. Not that he wasn't cheerful before, it's just all of you could see how he's happier now, that he's bouncing in every step he takes.

You didn't know how you could see this even brighter side of him was due to someone else and not you. Maybe you overestimated yourself, because the world does not revolve around you and you absolutely do not have the power to make everyone happy. But a part of you did hope that this unrequited love would be requited anyways, what a wishful thinking.

You were surprised that you didn't run away this time, and you didn't feel as bitter as you did when you were rejected. Maybe your heart really was painted yellow by the ranger, and that is why you're still here, wishing him happiness with his girlfriend. And he'd look at you with his brightest smile, cheeks bunching cutely, eyes gone, nose scrunched as he thanked you.

But today, Seokmin wasn't at his office when you came over at tea time to pass the muffins that you and your class baked. Mingyu had told you he went out with a sullen look on his face earlier. It was raining heavily outside, and you were worried that he didn't have his umbrella with him.

You run around the neighborhood, only to see a familiar figure crouching down behind the concrete tunnel at the playground in the rain.

“Seokmin? What are you doing here? It's raining” you asked as you carefully came up to him. He was still crouching, eyes downcast as his hands held waterproof cardboard over a puppy lying down on the ground.

“This puppy, he's dead. I- I always feed him but I was a bit late today be-because–” he sobbed, still staring at the lifeless puppy below. You crouched next to him, covering his head with the umbrella you brought even though he's already drenched and your heart broke at the sight of him, face wet with tears and raindrops, a frown and pout decorating his handsome face.

It was the first time you saw him cry, because he's always the one who comforts others, always puts others before himself.

If he's the one who always offers his shoulders to anyone who's sad, who offers their shoulders to him when he's upset?

“Do you need a hug?” You offered silently, opening your arms for him. Seokmin pouted even more before nodding and slowly moving to bury his face in your shoulder, and wrapping his arms around your torso as he sobbed sadly. You patted him on his back in a comforting manner, just listening to him crying his heart out for who knows how long.

“Sorry, I've wetted your sweater with my tears…” he mumbled as pulled away from you after he calmed down a bit.

“It's fine. Are you feeling okay now?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Yeah, thanks. But you're all wet too now! I'm so sorry!” He panicked again upon seeing half of your body was wet from the rain too. Your skirt was drenched, same as your shoes and socks.

“Hey, it's fine. I have spare clothes back at school. You've been in the rain longer than I am. We should probably get inside now or else we'll be sick. Come on,” you stood up, offering your hand for him to take. He did, and you walked together to find a box to place the puppy so that he can bring him to the pet crematorium at the end of the block later.

You didn't ask anything to him, it wasn't your place to be nosy of his affairs even though you're dying to know why his members said he's so sullen today.

“I had a fight with Jiwon,” he said out of nowhere when you both were watching the process of the cremation of the little puppy.

“Ah, I see. No wonder Mingyu said you looked sullen today. It's okay you can always talk and fix–”

“She wanted me to quit my job as a ranger,” he added and cut you off. You gasped, but didn't say anything to let him continue.

“I mean, I was fine if she didn't want me to raise the puppy at my apartment because she's always there. But telling me to quit my job just because Yeseung and Wonu are there and you're next door is a bit overreacting, don't you think so?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, Jiwon knows we're close to each other. I told her that you're my closest friend next to my members and she didn't like it. She was mad and we argued. She should've known that I love my job very much and she should have just supported me even if she didn't like it but forcing her decision on me is unacceptable,” he complained but all you could hear was ‘you’re my closest friend next to my members’.

The way he rejected you whilst being so unaware about it was so unreal that it stopped being funny to you.

“Yeah, she should have respected your opinions instead of forcing her beliefs on you” you muttered weakly as a response. You both walked back to the headquarters in silence only to hear screaming on the foyer.

“Jiwon?” Seokmin called out. The woman turned towards where you both stood at the gate and she rushed towards you to push at your shoulders violently, making you stumbled back.

“You bitch! Why are you with him?! What did you do?!” she screamed at your face.

“Jiwon, why are you being like this? Y/n was just accompanying me to send off the puppy that I always fed” Seokmin explained, trying to get his girlfriend off of you.

“That damn dog again?! How many times do I have to tell you? It's disgusting!” Jiwon yelled. You grabbed her by the collar, irritated at her constant yelling.

“Shut your trap. You're making a scene” you warned, voice low and demanding.

“And who are you to tell me anything?! Oh, you're ashamed that people are gonna know you're an ugly bitch who's trying to steal someone's boyfriend?!”

“No one's ashamed of anything and no one's stealing anyone. Calm down, Jiwon. Listen to me, please” Seokmin pleaded, pulling his girlfriend away from your grasp.

“Why are you siding with her? Did you actually like her?!” Jiwon shouted.

“I am honestly stunned. How did a guy who's so nice like him ended up with someone crazy like you? Did you put a spell on him or something?” You sighed exasperatedly, before snickering at her in a mocking manner. You've lost your cool. Your anger is blazing right now.

“You called me crazy?! Who do you think you are!” She yelled yet again, splashing the cup of orange juice at your face in anger. The whole foyer was stunned, including Seokmin. No one dares to make a move or utter a thing.

“You should have been grateful that he's the nicest human being on earth, the purest and kindest to ever exist. You should have been kind and respectful towards him, treat him with care and so much love the way he treated his friends and you. The way he deserves. Honestly, he deserves so much better than a nasty piece of crap like you” you spat, venom lacing in your tone. Your eyes are glowering in rage, if looks could kill, the woman in front of you would have died more than a few times already.

“What? Do you think you're better than me? That you deserved him?!”

“I'm not. If I'm better than you, I wouldn't even be here entertaining your pathetic ass. I'd rather ignore your pitiful yapping and tend to him because right now, he needs comfort more than anything. But here I am, standing eye to eye with such an ungrateful bastard when my heart is burning with envy”

It was indirect confession, you realized it too late as you noticed Seokmin's eyes widening at your words. But, you'd rather tell him the truth now instead of seeing him getting hurt by this wench.

“You actually have feelings for him, you shameless bitch!” Jiwon screamed, lurching forward to give you a slap but you were faster. She staggered back, the sound of smack was deafening. All eyes landing on you.

“Stop trying to touch me with your filthy hands. It's disgusting” you spat, before walking away from the scene.

You didn't know how you ended up at Yeseung’s door after that, only staring mindlessly at Wonwoo who had a shocked expression seeing you there– drenched.

“Come on in, Yeseungie is inside” he ushered you in, closing the door behind him.

“Bub, Y/n is here. She needs you” the tall guy had said to his girlfriend who was inside the bedroom.

“Y/n?” Yeseung’s voice was heard before she emerges from the bedroom wearing matching headband and pajamas as her boyfriend.

“Oh my gosh you're drenched. You're gonna wet my floor. Off you go to wash up, I'll bring you a change of clothes” she huffed, pushing you off to the guest bathroom.

“Baby can you get us some snacks?” Yeseung said.

“Yeah, I'll leave them at the door later and I'll be at Soonyoung's place. Call me if you need me, okay? Love you, bub,”

“Wonu left. You can wash up and then we'll talk,”

You ended up crying the whole night, before running down with a fever. It was embarrassing, being heartbroken until you fell ill as if you're still in highschool. It was even more mortifying that your body decided to fall sick at Yeseung’s house– troubling the couple even more. But they didn't mind at all, nursing you back to health as if you're their child.

You saw Seokmin again the next school day and you tried your hardest not to just bolt away and listen to what he has to say instead. You guys decided to talk at a nearby cafe, with a cup of coffee and cakes.

“I broke up with Jiwon” he announced, capturing your attention. You didn't know what to respond to that, so he continues,

“Thank you for saying what you said that day. I was really thankful and grateful for that. What you said made me really happy. Knowing someone thinks highly of me is really comforting,”

“I wasn't the only one. All of us feel that way. All of us think very highly of you. You're the kind of person who deserves the whole world” you mumbled. Seokmin smiled warmly at your words, enough to make you flustered.

“And… I'm sorry I didn't realize that you've liked me for a long while already. Mingyu told me that I've been blind. It must've hurt a lot yeah? Listening to me talk about Jiwon all the time… I'm sorry…”

When his voice sounded sad, you whipped your head up to look at him, his smile gone with a pout decorating his handsome face.

“It's fine. You don't have to be sorry, I'm just glad to see you're happy is all”

“But I am upset that you said you didn't deserve me and you talked badly of yourself. Because to me, you are so caring and loving towards others even though your face is intimidating sometimes”

“I really like being around you, Y/n. You made me feel at ease and I know I can always be myself and count on you. So… will you please not run away and stay until… until I can learn to love you more than a friend does?” He asked, round eyes looking at you with hope. You looked away, trying to hide the blush that's creeping their way up your face but he took it the wrong way, immediately pleading.

“Did you not like me anymore, Y/n? Is it because of what Jiwon did to you last time? I'm sorry, please! I promise I'll learn my hardest even if I'm not the brightest student!” He panicked.

“Only for a short while. I'll stop liking you if you take too much time to learn” you muttered, still staring out of the window at the cats.

“I'll try my best!” He chirped excitedly. His smile came back, beaming at you brightly like the sun itself.

You lied. There's no way you would actually be able to stop liking him, because you're falling in love with him deeper every second you spend with this man. Because your heart has already been painted yellow by the ranger himself. Making you feel bright, easy going and fluttery ever since you met him.

I guess rangers do exist. And their powers actually work too. – you noted, staring at the man who was petting a cat rolling around on the pavement.

“Y/n, let's adopt him!” He quipped, looking up at you with thise shiny eyes again.

“You can adopt him, but why do you need my approval?” You asked.

“Are you not going to be my girlfriend later on? I'll need your approval if you're going to always come to my apartment,” he questioned.

“Have you taken your lesson seriously? I told you I'm not going to wait for long,” you sassed. He gasped, bouncing on his feet to stand up quickly with the cat in his arms. His brows furrowed as he stepped closer towards you with that cute pout again.

“I'm learning! I promise I am. Don't leave. You're not allowed to” Seokmin whined, his fingers curling around your wrist gently. You smiled.

“I'm kidding. I won't leave. You can paint my heart yellow again if I tried to,” you chuckled, pulling your hand away only to lace your fingers together with his.

It was his turn to blush now, even the tip of his ears burned bright red.

“I will! As many times as it takes!” He announced, squeezing your hands together. He looked so cute like this, it warms your heart. You both ended up laughing at your ridiculousness, walking hand-in-hand back to your workplace.

-Fin-